


Vengeance is an Idiot's Game

by diriagoly



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Humor, High Honor Arthur Morgan, Light Angst, Slow Burn, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:28:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 28
Words: 66,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26033464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diriagoly/pseuds/diriagoly
Summary: Eliza Cornwall gets kidnapped by the Van der Linde gang to blackmail her father, Leviticus Cornwall, for a large sum of money to finally leave North America and settle down in Tahiti. Unbeknown to them he doesn't care much about her, leaving her fate yet unknown.The story I've got in mind is long, much longer than anticipated at first, and I'm not sure how regularly I'll be able to update this. I'm aiming for once a week, unless life happens.Graphic violence, nudity and assaults will be described, so please proceed with caution if any of these issues trigger you. Warnings will be at the beginning of the chapters. There will also be some smut, but that's relatively far in the future, what would a slow burner be, if we got to the juicy bits right away, aye?The timeline of this tale is muddled up with the events in the game, the biggest dissimilarities are: Arthur will not obtain TB. We start off in Horseshoe Overlook, although the Blackwater fiasco was a couple years back. Sadie has been running with the gang for a while, making a name for herself in the world.
Relationships: Arthur Morgan/Original Female Character(s), Karen Jones/Sean MacGuire, Molly O'Shea/Dutch van der Linde, Tilly Jackson/Leonard "Lenny" Summers
Comments: 47
Kudos: 167





	1. Theft

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warning: Abduction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick disclaimer: I've changed the story from second to third person perspective, it proves to be much easier for me to write and it was mentioned that Eliza definitely has her own personality, more than most protagonists that are written in second person. I'm much further along than the already uploaded chapters so there's a lot to rewrite, but I hope there won't be too many mistakes!

Eliza awakened with a start, the sudden feel of heavy pressure against her jaw had ripped her out of her deep, dreamless slumber. Panicked she blinked the sleep out of her eyes, as the muffled sound of her own protesting voice escaped from beneath the gloved hand that firmly sealed her mouth shut. The figure above her seemed to look down on her and lifted one finger in front of his lips, gesturing her to be silent. With a racing heart, she complied. It was hard to make out any features on the man towering above her, her room was pitch black. It must be the dead of night and no moonlight made its way through the curtains.

He bent down to her and whispered; his lips close to her ear. She could feel his hair fall against her cheek.  
  
“You better stay quiet and come with us willingly, otherwise this is going to end badly.”  
  
His voice was quiet, but sharp. With a racing heart, Eliza gave the hint of a nod. She wasn’t about to put up a fight against a man that was able to intrude into her family’s home, was probably armed to the teeth and by the sounds of it, had not come alone.

He gave her an intent look, the scarce light reflecting in his eyes, sending a shiver down her spine. No, this was indeed not a man she could get away from. He slowly lifted his hand off her jaw, hovering it there just a second longer in case she decided to defy his orders. When she stayed quiet, he pulled her up to a sitting position and roughly tied a strip of fabric around her head, gagging her. It tasted awful, but she wasn't going to complain. He quickly proceeded to tie her hands and feet.

Eliza was shaking from head to toe now. She's had the odd intruder in the night trying to assault her in the last few years, usually frustrated men her father picked out against her will for her to marry. Thankfully, her late uncle showed her a few tricks to defend herself when she was younger, and these unwelcome attempts always ended with them doubling over in severe pain, and Eliza getting a scolding from her old Sire, disappointed in her disinterest in any and every man. This wasn't anything like those nights. Tonight, she was scared senseless, and even if she wanted to defend herself, Eliza wasn't sure her body would follow her instructions. In one swift movement, the man picked her up by the waist and slung her body over his shoulder. He did this so effortlessly, as if she was light as a feather. She let out an involuntary whimper, silenced by the gag tied around her head.

When he carried her down the big, sweeping stairs that led into the entrance hall, she heard more voices whispering on the ground floor.  
  
“You got her? Good. Keep quiet everyone, let's disappear."  
  
  
The girl turned her head, trying to make out who spoke and how many men there were, but her kidnapper seemed to wear something like a blanket or scarf draped over his top half of the body and she couldn't peer past it. He reached the bottom of the stairs and his quiet steps quickened, making for the entrance. Where were the guards and servants? Surely they would have raised the alarm by now. There should have been at least half a dozen riflemen on duty at every hour of the day, yet the house felt completely empty. She tried not to think about what happened before these men got to her.  
She got carried through the big double doors now, the cold night air full of whispers. The steps set a quick pace away from the open doors, the tall pillars, the sweeping porch. Her heart was still hammering in her chest, the man would surely feel it, and for some silly reason Eliza was ashamed and disappointed in this display of her fear.   
The crunch of the gravel beneath his feet turned soft as his boots stepped onto the grass, away from the path that led up to the mansion in a straight line.  
  
“Over here! Bring her here, we'll put her on Moonshine”, a low voice beckoned.

They had reached the outskirts of the small woods that surrounded the manor, still no sign of any guards. She swallowed hard. Tied at her hands and feet, her mouth gagged, there was no way she could fight her way out of this.  
  
“Here, I'll take her off you Javier.”  
  
A pair of hands gripped her waist tightly, and she got swung around over a different pair of shoulders. After a few steps she got heaved up and across a mighty horse’s back end, the man secured her with a couple additional ties, then lifted himself up into the saddle on her left. She strained her neck trying to identify the group, but the night was moonless and all she could make out was shadowed figures, getting on their mounts and readying themselves to set off. Hooves padded over the ground and she was being carried away from her home, as their mounts changed from a walk into a trot, and then into a quick canter.  
  
-  
  


There were about four, five horses Eliza decided, by the sounds of their thundering hoofbeats. Every now and then she caught a glimpse of one galloping next to her, but she wasn't sure if it was the same each time. It was hard to keep her head lifted, as the up-and-down movement of the horses rear end took a toll on the muscles in her neck.  
They were riding for a while now, putting miles between her and her home, and her mind had settled a bit to allow somewhat rational thought. A group of men invaded her house, she got stolen out of her own bed, and now she was on the way to _who-knew-where_ , to do _who-knew-what_ to her. Was one of her spurned admirers behind all this? It seemed the most likely case, yet she did not know how they hoped to win her favour any more than the futile attempts of (mostly) polite conversation at the dinner table and (sometimes) the following bold, drunken advances, that (always) ended in her stern rejection.

Her father had tried to set her up with over a dozen men of his choosing, of course all of them filthy rich, in powerful positions and all of them blessed with the nastiest personalities. She could imagine a few of them who would attempt something so foolish as to kidnap her, the unwelcome visits at night didn't exactly paint them as gentlemen that would take no for an answer. She was pondering over which one it would most likely be – Mr. Vanderbilt, who bragged about bedding several of his cousins; or Mr. Lemieux, a middle-aged Frenchman, whose accent alone made her stomach turn in disgust. She was pondering the options when she noticed the horses slowing down. The group came to a full stop, in the middle of nowhere still, when the man riding in the saddle on her side turned around with a creak of the saddle and wordlessly fashioned another piece of fabric as a blindfold, before removing her gag.  
Meanwhile, a modulated voice sounded from somewhere behind her.  
  
“I apologise for this rude abduction Miss, please stay quiet for a little while longer. We're not far from our destination, where you will be residing for a few days at least, until our business matters with her father come to an end.”  
  
This took her by surprise. Business matters? Her father only moved in the highest circles, what business partner of his would kidnap his daughter to help with some deal or other? It didn't make any sense. With no further talk the group moved on, Eliza now blindfolded, although the night was so dark that it didn't make too much of a difference anyway. About an hour later the horses slowed down again. The air was filled with the biting scent of burnt wood and the soft rustling of more horses could be heard, as she was carried through the undergrowth in a trot. The group came to a halt.  
  
“Welcome back boys! Did everything go to plan?”  
  
As soon as the men started to dismount, a high, crackling voice sounded.  
  
“Naturally. It was the perfect night for it, wasn't it boys? Now, get to your tents and catch some rest, well done everyone.”  
  
The same man that addressed her earlier, apologising for being 'rude'. She wanted to tell him what she thought of his apology, but deemed it wiser to keep her mouth shut, until further notice.

There was some shuffling as the men unsaddled their mounts, and then the same man spoke again.  
  
"Arthur, could you please bring the Miss to the accommodations we prepared for her?”  
  
The man climbing out of the saddle next to her answered in a low, grumbly voice.  
  
“Sure, you want me to keep her blindfold on? She won't be able to see much in there anyway.”  
  
“You're right, take it off when you've brought her in. After all we don't want to cause any discomfort to young Miss Cornwall!”


	2. Iron Bars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dutch has always been a complex character, and I find him the most difficult to write!  
> No tw this time.

The ground beneath the furs she laid on was hard and cold. Not that it mattered of course, her racing mind wouldn't have let her fall asleep anyway. The solid iron bars surrounding her didn't do much to comfort Eliza either. Her fearful tremors had subsided, but a deeper sense of looming dread slowly expanded, filling the space in her chest where the blind panic had been. These men were able to steal her away from the most protected house in the state, hell, in all America, without anyone noticing. Who were they?

They weren't any actual business partners of her father, that much was certain. No one in their right mind would attempt to intimidate him by stealing something of his, and hope to retain a favourable relationship with him after that. Yet, what business could they have with him? She dreaded the response. Money, most likely. The thought of them trying to blackmail Leviticus Cornwall with his own daughters life almost made her laugh. He never wanted a daughter in the first place, and she certainly didn't care much for him. After her mother died he took her in, begrudgingly, and had tried to marry her off ever since. She wasn't quite decided yet if he just tried to be rid of her, or if he saw her as some sort of deal sweetener to the big pockets of this country.

In either case, Eliza was always more expense than what she got him in return, so he wouldn't care too much about her being in the hands of a group of criminals. After all, he never much cared about the men trying to assault her in his own house, he blamed her for _'leading them on'_ and not taking up their offers. She was a liability to his plentiful endeavours, and he surely would be glad to be free of this burden.  
  
Eliza tossed and turned, her thoughts returning again and again to what those men would do to her if they found out she'd be of no value to them – they had her caged and tied up, and she was completely at their mercy. In her experience, men were savage creatures who put their desires before everything else, and she was in a camp with at least five of those dangerous beasts.

Sure enough, they didn't do anything indecent to her yet – apart from the kidnapping she supposed – but she didn't believe that would last long.

The heavy canvas over the iron bars let through some light now, daybreak wouldn’t be too far away. The dark, straight lines of unyielding iron around her seemed to close in on her and her breath quickened. Eliza sat up and wrapped her arms around her knees, praying to a Lord she never truly believed in, that somehow, she'd make it out of this mess alive.

___

  
The girl didn't know how long she was sat there for, curled up and trying not to let the fear take every coherent thought out of her mind again. She tried to focus on her immediate surroundings to stay calm. The inside of her 'accommodation', as the boss man had called it, was illuminated enough now for her to realise it must be some sort of prison wagon, stolen of course. Outside, birds were singing and twittering away happily, as if she didn't have the worst night of her life. She heard the drawn out bugle of an Elk, somewhere far away, and a horses soft whinny in response. Wind brushed through the trees, it sounded like she was in the midst of a forest. It would have been calm and soothing, if not for her terrifying situation.  
The call of a rooster made her jump. Why a bunch of common criminals would keep something as domestic as a rooster eluded her, but she was soon surprised by the stirring of what seemed to be more people than just the five that brought her here, and she thought she heard the voice of a woman too. Eliza squeezed her knees tighter, but it didn't avert the shaking that had started anew. Who on earth were these people? The confusion fanned her fear, and the more rustling and bustling she heard, the less she could string her thoughts together. Through the waves of trembling horror and short moments of clearness in her mind, she heard the muffled chatter of voices, male and female, and they seemed so... Normal. Like they didn't have a kidnapped girl in their midst, like no one even knew she was there, trapped in her mind, completely and utterly helpless.  
Just as she feverishly thought (or hoped?) they might have forgotten about her, heavy footsteps, accented with the clink of spurs came closer to her prison. She didn't think she could tense up any more than what she already was, but learned soon she was wrong on that. The clear shadow of a man’s body was cast onto the canvas opposite to her.  
  
“Are you awake Miss Cornwall?”  
  
There was a knock on the wooden wagon floor. His booming voice was filled with a warm tone that was surely intended to soothe her, but had the opposite effect and her steady shakes turned violent again. Eliza wanted to answer, but her throat failed her. He knocked again.  
  
“I'm gonna lift the canvas now, I've got some food here for you Miss.”  
  
The shadow moved and the heavy fabric started to part in front of her. She wanted to shut her eyes and disappear, but neither of these things were possible, so she stared helplessly at the hand, the arm and then the upper body that came into view. With the sun rising behind him, it was hard to see anything more than a silhouette, but she was sure it was yesterday's leader, she wouldn't forget his voice that easily.  
  
“Oh dear Lord, you look absolutely terrified Miss Cornwall. My sincerest apologies, we have no intent of harming you. My name is Dutch van der Linde, I am the leader of our little camp. May I come in please?”  
  
Van der Linde. Something about that name rang familiar in her mind, but she couldn’t place it. He sounded concerned and truly sorry, but she didn't believe it was honest. His words were too smooth, too perfect to be true. She didn't know how to answer his question, so she just pushed herself back a bit more. He took this as approval and produced an iron key.  
  
“Our cook Mr. Pearson may not be as versed as the head chef and your kitchen staff, but his porridge tastes good enough, especially with a spoon of honey stirred in.”   
  
The door opened and he hoisted himself up into the wagon, his shoulders bent over to be able to fit in. Eliza shuffled back even more and felt her spine push against a cold iron bar. She was trapped, the only route of escape leading past him.  
The man approached slowly, and now that the tent flap had fallen down again, she could make out his features. His combed hair was almost black, grown down to his shoulders, his nose and cheekbones prominent in his face and his dark eyes beneath the stern brow had a knowing, intimidating glint. He looked as if he was a well groomed man, his beard was neatly kept and his clothing was immaculate, the white of his shirt so perfect as if freshly washed, the waistcoat fitting like it was tailored onto his body and at the end of his black, spotless trousers were polished shoes. He didn't look like a low life criminal, but that didn't soothe her fears one bit. He put the steaming bowl down at his side.  
  
“I'll remove your ties now Miss Cornwall, but please don't be rash and try to run. I guarantee your safety as long as you follow my orders, do you understand?"  
  
While he spoke, he lifted one hand into the air in an appeasing gesture, pulling a knife from behind his back with the other. She gave a quick, curt nod. Her voice hadn't found its way back to her yet. He was looming over her now and lowered himself onto one knee, looking expectantly at her arms that were squeezed tightly around her knees. With great effort, she forced her cramped muscles to relax and lifted her wrists towards him. He took her hands into his left, and with his right swiftly cut through the rope tying them together, then he did the same with the ties around her ankles. As soon as he was done, he retreated a few steps before squatting down again, giving her some personal space and Eliza realised she had held her breath the whole time.  
  
“I realise how frightening this must be for you Miss, but please rest reassured that I won't allow any harm to come to you. You are merely a way for us to... _prove_ to your father that doing business with us would be in his best interest, and for that we need you to be alive and well.”  
  
She took a deep, testing breath, it was as if she'd forgotten how to speak.  
  
“I- I'm not sure that's gonna work.”  
  
Her voice was shaky and she hated herself for it. The desperate plea to let her go sat on the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed it. Her gut told her this man was not one to fall victim to such things.  
  
“And why would you think that Miss Cornwall?” he asked, his eyes holding her firmly with a curious look.  
  
“My father doesn't give in to blackmail, and I'm certainly not something he would mind losing. You have no leverage with me I'm afraid.”  
  
His brows furrowed at this, but his eyes were still resting on her, calm and calculating. Then he raised himself up as much as the bars above him would allow and smiled.   
  
“We will see about that, Miss. He may be a tough business man, but you are still his daughter.”  
  
He retreated and hopped off the wagon, locking the door behind him.  
  
“Please try the porridge, I promise you it's quite pleasant!”  
  
He opened the canvas flap and stepped outside. Eliza sat pressed against the bars a moment longer, then carefully got on her knees, reaching for the bowl with a shaky hand. She wasn't sure she would keep it down if she ate any food, but he was right. If this plan would have any chance of succeeding, they needed her alive and well, and she hadn't had any dinner the night before.

Her thoughts swirled around his strangely familiar name and the conversation she just had, the leathery scent of his aftershave still lingering in the air.


	3. In the Cage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This and the next couple chapters are a bit short still, they get longer the further I get into this story! Please bare with me :)

It was a few hours before a girl came to collect the porridge bowl. In defiance of her fears, Eliza managed to keep the porridge in her stomach, and the man that introduced himself as Mr. van der Linde was right, it was pleasant enough. The girl, dark skinned and about her own age she guessed, had brought her a flask filled with water and removed the bowl without saying a word or even looking at her. She didn't seem too keen on the idea of having to tend to a prisoner she thought, but the lower servants in her house never showed much enthusiasm either, so maybe she just wanted to get on with her day. That her dress was too pretty to be that of a mere servant girl escaped her attention.

The busy bustle outside her cart had been going on for a while now, she could hear dimmed conversation, laughter, horses whinnying and even the odd bit of song. It didn't seem like she imagined an outlaw camp to be at all. There were definitely women in this group, to tend to the men most like. She shivered. Was this what she would become if her father didn't give in to their demand? An involuntary camp follower to this bunch of delinquents? Eliza wasn't sure if she didn't prefer dying after all.

The sound of approaching footsteps brought her back from her ponderings, and she tensed up, sitting with her arms around her knees still. A man spoke, his voice not unkind.  
  
“Hello Miss, I brought you a book to read!”  
  
He parted the cream coloured canvas and stepped inside the tent, his old eyes watching her with a careful look. He seemed slightly concerned.  
  
“Allow me to introduce myself, the name's Hosea Matthews. I thought it must be awfully dull in there with nothing to do, here.”  
  
A tattered hand slipped a book through the bars near the door, but she only briefly glanced down before her gaze returned to his face. He was old, maybe fifty or sixty years on his back, older than any wanted man had the rights to be and his face was oddly kind. The crows feet around his eyes gave him a friendly, almost cheerful air about him, and although the cheeks were sunken and his skin was weathered and paper like, he didn't look run down. She remembered her manners and managed to mumble a thanks. He smiled.  
  
“Don't thank me before you read it. I didn't know her favourite genre, but the girls here like their romance stories so I figured you might too. It is one of my personal favourites, a story about a rich girl falling in love with a lowly cowboy with nothing to his name, quite romantic in my opinion.”  
  
His smile widened and he winked at Eliza playfully.  
  
“There's plenty more where that came from, so if it doesn't suit your taste let me know and I'll get you another one. I'll be back by evening with some stew for you Miss!”  
  
He pushed the book a bit further into the wagon and turned around, opening the canvas. He hesitated, then moved to look back at her, still smiling but his eyes now had a sadness in them.  
  
“I'm ever so sorry about all of this Miss, we wouldn't have involved you if we had any other options. Your father seems to be quite a piece of work to negotiate with, and we needed something as insurance. Please forgive us, you'll be back at home soon.”  
  
Eliza gave a nod and after a last smile, he left. The fabric fell to the floor again. Shifting onto all fours, she reached for the book. It had the look of a well read, much beloved favourite. The pages were worn, the colour on the cover faded in some areas. The title read _“Heart of the Wilderness”_ and the cover art was of two figures, entwined in what looked like a very awkward hug, with a horse in the background. She scoffed internally. Romance had never been her favourite genre, but right now she was grateful for the distraction from her own thoughts. She settled her back propped up against the cold bars and flipped the book open, hungry to escape into a different world.

___

  
She hadn’t noticed the light growing dim, and the sound of a male voice gave her a start. From one second to the other she got pulled out of a family argument with an angry father and a desperate mother, into her own, so much more terrifying world. It was the book man again, Matthews was his name.  
  
“Miss Cornwall? I'm coming in now, got your dinner here.”  
  
He stepped inside, carefully balancing a bowl that was filled to the brim with what looked like some sort of stew, and her stomach started to audibly grumble at its fragrant smell. His gaze fell onto the book in her hands.  
  
“My, you are a quick reader! At this rate you'll have read all of my books before we part ways again!” He gave a short chuckle. “Do you like it?”  
  
“It's... Nice, thank you.”  
  
He unlocked the iron door and climbed onto the wagon with some difficulty. He put the stew and a spoon down within her reach and kneeled halfway between her and the entrance, his hind resting on his heels.  
  
“It's only rabbit, our best hunters are away on a mission right now. But Pearson makes a decent rabbit stew.” there it was, the friendly, almost affectionate glint in his eyes again that confused her so much. “Hopefully we'll get some venison in soon, that would be a right treat. Do you need anything else Miss?”  
  
Eliza shook her head, putting the book down, placing the edge of one of the furs on the floor as a bookmark between the pages, and reached for the steaming bowl that smelled so heavenly.  
  
“Thank you Mr. Matthews”, she murmured, her eyes avoiding his gaze.  
  
“Please, call me Hosea.”  
  
He lifted himself up with a labouring sigh and clambered down, locking the door again.  
  
“Enjoy your dinner Miss Cornwall, I'll send someone to collect the bowl in a bit. Let us know if there is anything you need.”  
  
He patted his hand twice on the bars in a gesture of farewell and departed. Hunger won over her bewilderment at this kindly treatment and she dug into the stew in a very unladylike manner.


	4. Gifts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short one, I'll be uploading one more chapter at the weekend to make up for it. 
> 
> No tw!

The dark skinned girl and Mr. Matthews were the only people that showed up beneath the canvas over the next couple days. Eliza had finished _Heart of the Wilderness_ in just one day, and a laughing Mr. Matthews brought her a few other books to keep her occupied, accompanied with an oil lamp for some late night reading. He didn't seem like a bad man at all and she started to warm up to him, even though he was part of an outlaw gang. She was pretty certain by now that the people here must be a gang of sorts, it made the most sense. Still, the benevolence he treated her with, and the timid smile she received last time the girl brought her some rough woollen blankets, perplexed her. She had read another title and was halfway through _the Adventures of the Gunslinger,_ when Dutch van der Linde's melodic voice sounded from outside the tent.  
  
“Miss Cornwall, I've got news from your father!”  
  
She quickly folded a corner of the page she was on – She had asked Hosea for a bookmark to keep the pages intact, but he just shrugged and told her this was how he had done it for years – and put the book down to rest next to her. Her heart was pounding hard in her throat.  
  
“Mr. van der Linde”, she said, as the man entered the tent.  
  
“We sent a letter to your father when you arrived two days ago, he hasn't responded yet but there is talk he's sent out whole troops of men to find you. It seems like he is keen to get you back Miss Cornwall! You needn't worry, our terms are humble enough for him to agree.”  
  
Eliza had her doubts about that. Of course he would send out men to look for her, if only to drag her back to him and give her a scolding, whilst likely locking her up and forcing her to wed the next man he could tie her to, but she wasn't hopeful he would pay a single dollar to criminals. She kept her thoughts to herself and nodded. The black haired man continued.  
  
“We'll set up a meeting as soon as we get his answer and you'll be reunited with her family in no time. Until then, please bear with these unworthy conditions a little while longer.” He glanced down on her, his eyes critical. “I'll have Miss Grimshaw prepare some clothes for you, fitting to be worn by a young lady. We can't have you being brought back to your father in your night gown.”  
  
These words made her shift uncomfortably, trying to hide the shape of her body with her arms. Until now, she didn't pay the fact that she spent her days in this gown much thought, but having this man stood opposite of her commenting on her attire – or lack thereof – made her feel _very_ conscious of it. She gave a nod and attempted a thankful smile.  
  
“Alright Miss Cornwall, I'll leave you to your-” he glanced at the title of the book laid next to her, “adventurous Gunslinger.” He chuckled. “Hosea has been providing you with entertainment I see.”  
  
“He- He was kind enough to let me borrow some of his novels, yes.”  
  
“Ever the librarian, old Hosea. Do you write? I'll send for a journal for you.”  
  
Without waiting for her to answer, he turned around.  
  
“See you soon Miss Cornwall."  
  
Eliza let out her breath as soon as he was out of sight, her eyes lingering on the lazily swaying canvas where he left the tent. Like last time, the faint scent of a leathery fragrance lingered in the air. He seemed like the sort of man that was able to wrap anyone around his little finger with ease, but she didn't buy it. He was charming in his demeanour and he sounded so secure and sure of himself when he spoke, luring his listeners into a sense of trust and security. Yet something was off, she wasn't sure if it was because he and his men abducted her, or if there was something else. The fact that she had heard his name before didn’t help either.

She picked her book back up, but couldn't really get into it. A short while later her ears picked up on the sound of more sets of footsteps getting closer, and the raised voices of two arguing men.  
  
“Get lost Micah, you ain't got any reason to visit her!”  
  
“Relax Cowpoke, I just want to steal a glimpse at her lovely high born face. We ain't got that much fresh beauty 'round here if you didn't notice!"  
  
“Her face ain't hers to _steal a glimpse_ at, now for the last time get lost! Go look at her disgustin' photographs if you need to, just stay the hell away from that woman. We need her unharmed and I ain't trusting you with her, or anything else important for that matter”  
  
“Always the spoilsport, Morgan. I'll ask Dutch next time, he ain't got that many trust issues with his fellow men.”  
  
The canvas at the door moved and one set of spurred boots moved away. The flap opened and a tall, broad figure slipped in, his head was tilted, so she couldn't see much of his face under the brim of his hat.  
  
“Dutch asked me to get you a journal Miss, had one spare so here it is. Got you a pen too.”  
  
Eliza recognised his now low, grumbly voice as the man who's horse she was on. She tensed up again, her knuckles white as she was gripping her novel tightly. He lifted his head slightly, giving a questioning glance in her direction when she didn't answer immediately and placed the book on the wagon floor.  
  
“Th-thank you. I appreciate it.”  
  
Her voice sounded pressed, he noticed it too and took a step back, denting the fabric with his shoulders.  
  
“Anyway, I'll leave you in peace now. Sorry 'bout all this Miss.”  
  
He turned and walked out of the tent without as much as looking at her a second time. She eased up when the clinking sound of his spurs went away. Curious, she put her book down and leaned over to take the journal into her hands. It was bound in smooth leather, the craftsmanship wasn't very good but it was pretty enough. She opened the latch that kept it closed and flipped it open, revealing the pen that was attached with a loop on the inside. She had only ever really written letters when she had to, and didn't really know what to do with this journal. Until her thoughts wandered back to the endless hours spent away from the mansion, sitting under a tree, sketching the landscape, the workers in the fields or animals. The memories felt strange, like it was a different life, a different her. She uncapped the pen and hovered it over the first page. Then she started to draw with quick, practised strokes and her mind went calm.


	5. Rabbit Ears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're still captured but Eliza is getting to know more about the camp and its members.

Eliza had counted five days now since Mr. van der Linde visited her, and she wondered how long the postal service usually took to deliver letters. How would they go about getting mail to a hidden outlaw camp in the middle of nowhere in the first place?  
She’d been keeping busy reading the never-ending flow of books Hosea provided and sketching in the journal, with the occasional visit of a member of the camp, to bring her food or drink. On the third day of her imprisonment, the girl of whom she thought was a servant had eventually introduced herself as Tilly Jackson, and asked if she could bring the other girls to meet her. Eliza had not had much female company since her mother died and she came to America, but seeing as there was little else to do for her, she agreed. Tilly had returned with two friends, Mary-Beth and Karen, and Eliza got along well enough with them. They had visited her a handful of times when they could steal away from their chores, and she welcomed the little bits of information about this group she would learn from them.  
It turned out there weren't any servants in this camp and the girls were treated with respect by the male members of the gang, or a certain Miss Grimshaw would intervene. She sounded like a terrifying woman, and Eliza wasn't too keen to meet her herself. But the girls seemed thankful for the protection, that Micah guy and another, Bill, seemed to be regular trouble makers for them. They had gossiped about the gang members, and she had learned quite a bit about the rest of the people that stayed invisible, but not inaudible around her. Apart from themselves and Miss Grimshaw, there were two more women in the camp. Molly, who was chasing Mr. van der Linde's attention as his on-off bedwarmer, and Abigail, who had a son with one of the long standing members and seemed to be his girlfriend or wife, the three hadn't been able to agree on that. They had told her about how protective she was over her son Jack, and Eliza had once again been lost in bewilderment. A young kid, running with a gang of dangerous outlaws? It didn't fit the picture she’d always had of these sorts of groups. She had also learned the names of the rest of the crew, and even though she couldn't remember all of them, the five of the men who abducted her, stayed in her mind.  
Dutch van der Linde was the head of operations of course, his name still rang familiar in her ear but she couldn’t place it. Apart from him there was Javier Escuella, the man who stole her out of her bed so swiftly, Arthur Morgan, who's horses back end she was transported on and who brought her the journal, and the supporting lookout was made up of Bill Williamson and Lenny Summers. She didn't have a face to three of them and only barely caught a glimpse of Mr. Morgan, but she imagined them all to look hideous in broad daylight, with grim scars and even worse eyes, and Bill being a reported sleazebag would look the worst of them.  
The girls had lent her some of their own books, Karen had brought her a couple of titles that made her cheeks flush hot with embarrassment at the sight of them and had laughed about her obvious flustering, calling her an innocent little girl. Eliza had laughed it off and acted not very interested in them, but when they left Karen's books were the first she'd opened and devoured, with a wicked curiosity.  
The never-ending noises of the camp felt familiar by now, and her despair at the situation had eased up a little. She wasn't sure if she wanted to be given back to her father, or if escaping this in a different way would be preferable. He would surely blame her for this, despite all sense and evidence. But on the other hand, where else would she go? She didn't have any useful skills, and the only jobs unskilled women could take on wasn't really to her liking. She might as well have taken one of the rich men as her husband and provided him pleasure at his command. Eliza didn't know what to do.

The sound of Tilly’s giggle neared and she looked up from her journal where she had been sketching, lost in thought. Karen and Tilly entered, beaming from ear to ear.  
  
“Miss Cornwall, I believe you'll find it of interest that Dutch has taken a liking to your – how did he put it?”  
  
Karen looked at Tilly, who stepped in.  
  
“To your _remarkably pleasant face,_ he said. We overheard him and Hosea talking!”  
  
“Ooooh Molly won't be too pleased with this, Miss O'Shea thought she just about had him reeled back in before they went to get you!”  
  
They both laughed and Eliza hoped her face didn't betray her. She wasn't keen on his admiration, frankly she'd have preferred if he found her hideous. The girls didn't seem to dislike him though, so she didn't want to be rude and smiled with them.  
  
“Well, he hasn't spoken to me much, but he was very polite in our last conversation.”  
  
She thanked the gods that her voice sounded light hearted. Before they could reply, someone called their names from nearby.  
  
“Karen, Tilly! Miss Grimshaw is on the hunt for you, and she ain't seem in too happy a mood! You better get to her as quick as you can.”  
  
They both cursed and shot Eliza an apologetic look, before stumbling, still giggling, out of the tent. Mr. Morgan entered just moments later, a flask in his hands. He pushed it through the bars towards her, barely looking in her direction.  
  
“ 'ere, got you some more water, Miss. Sorry to disturb your chat with them girls, they often forget they got chores to do.”  
  
His eyes fell on the journal in her lap, and the corners of his mouth twitched. He lifted his head and looked at Eliza directly for the first time, she had to pull herself together to not flinch. He didn't have the unkind, mean look she was expecting from a kidnapper, but his face was hard, weathered and unshaven. He smiled a half smile.  
  
“You like it then? To draw in?”  
  
His voice was a touch clearer than before and she gave her best to relax a bit. There were steel bars between the two of them and he didn't seem to want to do her any harm.  
  
“Y-yes, thank you. I'm not much of a writer, but drawing reminds me of sitting outside my home and looking over the valley.”   
  
“Mmh, sounds lovely. Shame we can't let you sit out here, there's a spot where the view over the river is beautiful, real nice to sketch there.”  
  
Eliza wasn't sure how to respond, so she just nodded politely and smiled back. He was looking at the journal again, tilting his head as if he was curious see what she’d been drawing, then quickly averted his gaze and lowered his head, as if caught.  
  
“Sorry, didn't mean to pry. I'll leave you to it now, one of 'em girls will bring you some dinner.”  
  
He turned around and left in something of a hurry. Her eyes lingered for a moment on the swaying canvas, then returned to her lap. The rabbit she had sketched there didn't look quite right, the ears weren't in the right place. She sighed and closed the journal. She yearned to sit outside, the sunlight caressing her skin, and wondered what the view he was talking about would look like.


	6. The Best Table in the House

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of my favourite chapters so far. We're laying the early ground work for our ship here! I hope you enjoy~

“The modern world is ugly, but the old world was worse. Our job... Our job is to make a better world for ourselves. Not go backwards, but go forward. With hopes and dreams.”  
  
Mr. van der Linde was sat on a stool at the end of her wagon and held another monologue. This man sure liked to hear himself talk, but at least Eliza didn't succumb to terror and tense fear anymore whenever she heard his voice. So in a way, his visits did her a favour.  
He still didn't have news of her father, three days past he had come into her tent to apologise and ask her to be a “little more patient”, and then went on and stayed and tried to spark up a conversation with her. His attempts were met with barely more than a few, polite words from her side, but he didn't seem to mind, and he had visited her a handful of times since, every time talking about this world, man's place in it and his philosophy of what the ideal of human life would be. She could see how one could get lost in his words and follow him blindly. She had to admit, that man could _talk_. Yesterday, he had brought a little stool and put it at the entrance to her 'accommodation' as he kept calling the prison wagon. Tilly and Karen had shown up to bring her a bedroll and some more furs, she had no doubt at his command. Eliza cringed internally.   
  
“What are your dreams, Miss Cornwall?”  
  
He looked at her expectantly, waiting for an answer. She had to think about it, pretending she knew what he was talking about just now. He had been monologuing for the last ten minutes and she had zoned out, as she so often did when he was with her.  
  
“To be honest, Mr. van der Linde, I'm not sure. My father always wanted me to get married to a suitable match, so I didn't give myself much time to think about dreams.”  
  
“Well I think it is time that that changed, Miss! No human being can live a fulfilled life without dreams, and if we achieve them we need to make new ones! A life without dreams is a dull, desperate affair. Take my word for it, I know it is so! Years ago...”  
  
And on he went, talking about a dark time in his life or some other. All the while she was sketching, although she still struggled to get the motifs quite right in lack of any reference. She had drawn Hosea, Karen and Tilly, after they agreed to sit for her and she gave the girls their paintings as thanks. She offered the same to Hosea too, but he had declined with a laugh, “I've been looking in the mirror for over fifty years now and the picture ain't getting prettier. You keep it, to remember me by when you get home!”  
She really liked that man. The books he brought her greatly improved the time spent in the uncomfortable wagon, and his conversation was always welcome, much more than Dutch’s self-indulgent ramblings. And, he always seemed to show up when she was just about fed up with Mr. van der Linde's voice and got him to get up and leave, winking at her when he was gone. Hosea reminded her of her late uncle in England, only skinnier, shabbier and older.  
The man sat on the other side of the iron bars was still going on about how he overcame his self doubt with the help of his seemingly immeasurable drive to push through, when Hosea's voice rang from close by.  
  
“Dutch, Molly's looking for you! She said she'd have something to discuss with you, sounded urgent.”  
  
He lifted the tent flap, peering in. Beside him stood Mr. Morgan, staring down at his boots. Mr. van der Linde sighed and got up. He gave her a look full of regret, patting the dust off his trousers and putting on his hat.  
  
“Seems like our enjoyable conversation needs to continue at another time Miss Cornwall, my apologies. Duty calls! Hosea, Arthur.”  
  
He nodded at Hosea and Mr. Morgan in passing, then vanished from her view. The two men waiting outside stepped in, a sly smile on Hosea’s face.   
  
“We’ve got a little treat for you Miss Eliza.”  
  
He stood closer to her and held something through the bars, acting shifty as if it was a secret. Eliza had asked him to call her by her first name a few days back, but he'd insist on keeping the 'Miss'. She fished for what he was holding out for her and realised it was a candy bar. She let out a little laugh as he retreated, standing back next to his companion.  
  
“Why thank you Mr. Matthews, that sure is a treat! What did I do to deserve this kindness?”  
  
“Well, I was hoping you would do us a favour in return. I just caught our young Arthur here drawing in his journal again, but he didn't seem to be able to catch someone sitting still for long enough to get a piece done. I was wondering if you might do him that favour?” He patted his hand on the taller man’s shoulder in a kind gesture, his eyes wandering from Morgan to the girl, an expression of tenderness in them she couldn’t place.  
  
Taken aback, her glance shot to the man stood next to him, his head still bowed. Part of her was incredibly surprised at this display of intimacy between the two, the other part stifled a laugh at this grown man in his thirties being referred to as ‘ _young Arthur’_ , as if he was a child. They clearly had history more than just being members of the same outlaw group which she didn’t know about, but this wasn’t the time to ask.   
  
Mr. Morgan didn't want to look her in the eye and seemed to be rather uncomfortable, digging at the dirt with his boot as he spoke in a quiet, dismissive tone. “'s alright Hosea, I told you I ain't much company for the lady, besides I don't mind not finishing a drawin’. They ain't much to look at anyways.”  
  
“Nonsense, I remember how much you enjoyed sitting there for hours, drawing my Bessie when you was a youngster! Look, we even got a chair here for ya son. You don't mind Miss Eliza, do you?”  
  
Hosea gave her a beseeching look, she couldn't deny this kind old man this favour. It wasn't like she had things to do or places to be, what harm could it do if someone wanted to draw her? Besides, Mr. Morgan had been kind to her, aside from being part of the group that kidnapped her. And even then, spending time with Hosea was always lovely and kept her mind from going in circles, he was light hearted company, easy to talk to, and he would surely intervene if she’d start to feel threatened. Eliza shook her head and smiled, hoping her face wouldn't show her conflicted feelings.  
  
“Of course not. You've more than paid for my time with this bar!” She held up the candy. “Just as long as Mr. Morgan is done by dinner, I have a reservation for the table with the best view in the house tonight.”  
  
Hosea cackled loudly at that and even Mr. Morgan gave a short chuckle. He sat down onto the stool, Hosea’s hand resting on his shoulder for a moment. They didn't look like dangerous outlaws, more like a loving father with his overgrown son. Didn’t Hosea call him son earlier? She wondered again about their connection, taking the opportunity of them being distracted to eye both their faces up for similarities, that she quickly found weren’t there. She’d have to ask Hosea later, this had her more curious than she had the right to be.  
The younger of the two flipped his own journal – bound in the same smooth leather as hers she noticed – to a blank page and took out a pen. He put his hat down on the ground next to him, revealing dark blonde hair, that was pushed out of his face carelessly and now fell down to his prominent cheekbones. Hosea squeezed his shoulder and smiled.  
  
“Alright, I'll leave you two to it. I'll be back to serve dinner at the table with the best view in the house later!”  
  
Before she could say anything in return, he had left. Eliza stared in disbelief at the place where he stood just a moment ago. Was he really going to leave her alone with the man that carried her away from her home just under a fortnight ago? Surely he was aware of her feelings towards the rest of the group, especially the five that played a part in that. Well, maybe not so much with Mr. van der Linde anymore since he proved to be harmless, if slightly annoying, during his visits. Did Hosea think she’d grown used to being around these criminals? Her eyes flicked to Mr. Morgan, who seemed just as perplexed, looking to the tent entrance to his left.  
They were both quiet for a few seconds, before he cleared his throat and sighed, adjusting his journal on his lap and avoiding to look at her.  
  
“S'pose he didn't want to bother ya with any more conversation. Bet Dutch is chewing your ear off with all his talk lately.”  
  
His voice was mumbly and awkward, he stole a shy glance in her direction. Eliza swallowed her rising fear, he clearly was just as uncomfortable with this situation as she was. Sighing, she agreed.  
  
“I suppose he didn't. He is a nice man, Hosea I mean. Saved me a few times from Mr. van der Linde's monologues now.” She gave a nervous laugh. Being alone in the presence of a man she didn’t know still made her feel ill at ease. “So – how should I sit?”  
  
He lifted his head, looking at her longer than just a second for the first time. He seemed insecure, his eyes darting between the few things in the wagon and her.   
  
“You – uh – could lean sideways against the bars over there?” He gestured to the bars next to her, and she followed his instructions. “Haven't done this in a while, this might take a while, you, uhm... You could read a book? That way you ain't gonna be too bored?”  
  
His voice sounded unsure, almost shy, and Eliza nodded, reaching for the book she was reading before she got her ear chewed off by the leader of the gang. She opened it, briefly searching for the right page, and made herself as comfortable as she could be. Finally sitting with her legs angled diagonally, leaning her shoulder lightly against the metal bars next to her, she looked up at him, her brows furrowed in a questioning manner.  
  
“Is this okay?”  
  
“Yer, uh, perfect”, he mumbled and she bowed her head slightly, starting to read.  
  
Eliza could feel his eyes on her, and she kept hers firmly fixed on the pages of _the Wild Stallion._ Partly because she was eager to find out what happened next, but mostly to avoid his gaze. The situation was as awkward as one of her fathers arranged dinners with a man she’d never met before, but for a different reason. This man could be dangerous, and she felt anxious in his company. But the sound of his pen scratching on the rough paper was soon forgotten, as she got engrossed in the adventures of the wild mustang she was reading about. Adventure books were so much better than silly romances, even though she had to admit Karen's raunchy books were quite exciting. But that was different and didn’t count.  
  
Time passed unnoticed and the light started to dwindle under the canvas, and after a while her eyes struggled to make out the words on the pages. She kept her position though, not wanting to interrupt his drawing. After a long pause in the scratching of the pen, he cleared his throat. Eliza could feel him staring at her in the darkness.  
  
“It's getting real dark Miss, you alright there reading still?”  
  
“The book is almost finished anyway, and I wanted to keep the last chapters for after dinner”, she looked over at him, giving a shrug. “Did you want Hosea’s lantern? He left me one so I could read in the night.”  
  
Eliza gestured to the lamp opposite to her and he gratefully accepted. His journal was laid in the wagon now, his arms reaching through the bars to continue drawing in the bright shine of the flame in the lamp. She peered at his work for a moment and was amazed. He had produced a realistic, almost life like portrait of her. His eyes kept scanning her as he was adding shadows, she realised he must be referring to the shadow cast by the flickering lamp light on her face, as he filled in heavily shaded areas. For a brief moment their eyes met and she quickly averted her gaze, looking at the open page in her lap again that she read not too long ago. A short while later, he sat up and stretched his elbows behind his shoulders with a sigh.  
  
“There, done.” He set the pen down, rubbing his neck with one hand. “That's about as long as I can sit, you must be stiff as a board over there Miss.”  
  
Eliza stretched out herself and moved into a different position, rolling her neck to loosen the muscles.  
  
“It's not that bad, I’ve gotten pretty good at sitting by now”, she answered, trying a polite smile. She stole another glance at the finished page, and even though it was upside down, she could clearly recognise herself. She was stunned.  
  
Without warning, the canvas at the entrance parted and Hosea's face appeared.  
  
“You kids done? Let's see then Arthur. Aah you haven't lost one bit of your talent! Simply marvellous.”  
  
He put down two bowls of stew, gently pushing one towards Eliza and nodding an invitation for her to help herself, then he picked up Mr. Morgan’s journal without asking. He looked at it a long moment while the younger man tucked into his own dinner, muttering something about Hosea taking his sweet time and leaving them and staying away for longer than was necessary. The old man ignored him.  
  
“Simply marvellous”, he repeated, “although I don't think you've quite captured the whole extent of her beauty my boy.”  
  
Eliza could feel her cheeks flush. Hosea liked to compliment her, but it was always done in a sweet, kind way, so she didn’t mind too much. The younger just scoffed between bites, and gestured to the book with his spoon in hand.  
  
“Well you can give it a try if you think you could do better”  
  
Mr. Morgan was clearly not happy over the critique, but the food was more important than to start an argument. Hosea gave a chuckle and placed the journal down again.  
  
“Oh I wouldn't dare to compare my skills in art with yours Arthur, I'll stick to reading my books.”  
  
Hosea produced a flask and took a swig of the liquid inside, then offered it to her. She reached for it and testingly took a small sip, then a bigger one as she recognised the smoky liquor that ran down her throat, leaving behind a warm burning sensation. She passed the whiskey back to him with a thank you. Mr. Morgan’s eyebrows raised slightly in surprise as he observed her, but he didn't comment. Hosea tucked the flask back into his pocket.  
  
“How's your dinner, Miss Eliza? Charles brought in a beast of a buck earlier, the venison should do nicely in Pearson’s stew.”  
  
Wanting to keep some of her dignity, she chewed hastily and swallowed to avoid speaking with a mouthful of food. “It's lovely, the meat is nice and tender. He's got to give his secrets to our head chef at home!”  
  
“Glad to hear it, but don't tell him please Miss. His boasting would be even worse than usual!” the old man replied, smiling. He leaned against the iron bars and produced a chunk of bread, breaking bits off and chewing on them himself. “My stomach ain't what it used to be, and most of the time Pearson’s cooking doesn't seem to agree with it too much. But there's always water and bread, all the old gladiators of Rome needed to stay strong I read somewhere!”  
  
Eliza laughed, not quite sure that was true, but didn't say anything. The stew was indeed delicious and she finished the entire bowl before she put it down. Hosea was trying to converse with Mr. Morgan, who gave only short hums in between bites as answer. He turned to her.  
  
“How is your book supply Miss Eliza? I can bring you some more titles later if you're through with the last ones.”  
  
Eliza took a sip of water to wash the food down and shook her head.  
  
“I'm still on the first one, Mr. van der Linde didn't give me much opportunity to read today I'm afraid, but thank you.”  
  
“That's a shame, _Call of the Wilderness_ is one of my favourites! You'll have to let me know how you find it, Miss Eliza.” He gathered up the bowls, while the younger man picked up his hat and stowed the journal back into his satchel.  
  
“I hope you have a wonderful night Miss Eliza, you've done Arthur a great favour today. Isn't that so Arthur?”  
  
“Yeah, uh, thanks Miss.” he tipped his hat at her, only quickly looking in her direction. “G'night.”  
  
She wished them a good night and they both left, chatting between themselves as they walked away. She sat there as their voices dwindled and lost themselves in the nightly noises. Someone in the camp was playing guitar, and she leaned her head against the bar, the last chapters of the book forgotten. She was suddenly very tired, so she extinguished the flame of the lamp and laid down on the furs, pulling the woollen blanket over her.


	7. Quiet Company

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short but sweet chapter. (I promise they get longer!) We're close to a turning point!

The days passed, and Eliza gradually lost all hope of her father ever replying to the demands of the gang. There wasn't much hope to begin with, but it had been three weeks now, if he intended to agree to a deal surely he would have answered by now. The resentment she’d always felt towards him was slowly replaced with anger, of the deeply rooted and dangerous sort. He just _left_ her there.  
She was sick of this cage, even if there were plenty of visitors, books and other distractions. She was kept too busy to draw much. Hosea seemed to possess a whole library, the girls kept coming back for their gossip with her, Mr. van der Linde still visited her daily to apologise for the lack of news and stayed for some ' _pleasant conversation_ ', even Javier Escuella, who she found out was the one playing guitar mostly, had taken to sitting outside her tent and playing, not bothering to talk to her. She was glad, knowing he was the one that abducted her didn’t make his presence exactly welcome, but she was pretty sure Hosea had asked him after she complimented the guitar play some days ago, during one of his ‘book club’ meetings with her.  
If it wasn't for the kidnapping, Eliza thought to herself, they didn't seem like bad people. She liked Hosea, the girls all called her by her first name and spoke of her as their friend, even Mr. van der Linde could be nice and generous if she could see past his self centred speeches. There was bickering and arguing in the camp on a daily basis, but it seemed harmless. She didn't notice any violent incidences, other than the occasional game of what the girls had spoken about as 'Five Finger Fillet' with a shudder, a game too gruesome for her to understand how it could be fun. The small glimpses of the greenery outside she could catch whenever her tent flap was opened didn't provide much more information.  
She had woken up with a headache and in a bad mood today, even Hosea's company couldn't do much to improve it, so he retreated and left her to her own gloomy thoughts. It was raining since the early morning hours, and nearby she could hear Micah Bell shouting, complaining about something. The noise he was making caused her head to thump painfully and a curse left her lips. She had grown to despise that man, even though she never met him. The way he talked to everyone was disrespectful, patronising and just plain rude. She hoped she'd never have to make his acquaintance as the sound of his voice was heading further away.

  
___  
  


  
Mr. van der Linde entered the tent sometime after midday, the rim of his hat wet and dripping from the rain, with his usual apology and long winded speech of how she should keep faith, her father would surely have answered already and the letter just got lost and took longer to deliver. Eliza didn't believe in it anymore. He didn't stay long this time, he seemed to have other matters to attend to. She was thankful for the solitude and laid back down, after a while of going over and over in her head of what alternatives to returning back home she had, she dozed off.  
  


___  
  


  
She woke up to the soft plinking of a guitar making its way through the thick canvas. The rain had stopped and Javier was sitting near her tent again, playing his songs, and a girl, Mary-Beth she believed, accompanied his melody with her voice. She didn't understand Spanish and apparently neither did Mary-Beth, the Mexican stopped every now and then, correcting her words or pronunciation, laughing. The headache hadn’t subsided, but the soft music was easy on the ears, so Eliza appreciated it.  
She listened to them for a while, as Hosea brought her dinner. Lamb stew. She didn't want to know where the lamb came from, but it satisfied her growling stomach. Pondering over how many different stews Pearson had in his repertoire and if he seasoned them all the same, she heard the clink and squelch of spurred boots on mud approach. The tent entrance opened and Mr. Morgan peered in, tapping the brim of his hat in a silent greeting.   
  
“Sorry Miss, Dutch asked me to let you know he'll be out of camp until tomorrow morning. Urgent business in town or some such.”  
  
She nodded in response, returning her attention to the bowl of stew in her hands. When he didn't leave, she lifted her eyes to meet his again, raising her brows and giving him a questioning look.  
  
“'scuse me, I was just wondering, uh... If I could sit in here and do another drawing of you when you're done eating. Weather ain't great and people's been bothering me all day, I could use a bit of peace – If you don't mind of course, Miss? Won't be as long as last time.”  
  
She viewed him suspiciously. The look in his eyes was almost pleading, and through her bad mood and the disdain she still had for the man, she felt a twang of pity. She nodded.  
  
“Sure, come in. Mr. van der Linde's stool is still there.”  
  
He smiled gratefully and stepped inside, taking off his hat and sitting down with a soft groan. Eliza shovelled the rest of the bowl into her mouth, then put it aside and wiped her jaw on her sleeve. He didn't look at her until she spoke.  
  
“Should I read a book again?”  
  
His head rose and he glanced her over, his brow furrowed in thought. “Only if you want to, you could draw as well I s'pose.”  
  
He pulled out his journal and laid it onto the wagon, she leaned forward to pass him the lamp, wincing at the sharp pain in her head caused by this sudden movement.  
  
“It's alright, I'm not in the mood to do much today”, she said rubbing her temples, and positioned herself in the same spot as last time, leaning her back against the bars, “you mind if I just rest my eyes?”  
  
“Nah, that's fine Miss. I ain't much of a talker either, won't bother ya.”  
  
That elicited a chuckle from her. “I noticed that much”, she answered, as she closed her eyes and tilted her head back to rest on the cool iron.  
  
He hummed in agreement and the scratching of his pen soon soothed her into a light slumber.  
  


___

“Alright, I'm done.”  
  
Eliza awoke with a start, disbelief at the fact she dozed off this easily with him in her tent. He was still sitting at the same spot, his forearms threaded through the cage, closing his pen over what looked like a few cleaned up sketches of her face, all of them with different lighting.  
  
“Sorry, didn't mean to fall asleep”, she mumbled, still stunned by her carelessness. He looked at her, a low chortle escaping his throat.  
  
“Told ya I wasn't much interesting company. Here, I got your drawing from last time.” He held out a piece of paper to her, it was upside down, concealing the drawing. She reached forward to take it. “Ain't much, but I thought you'd like to have it. Anyway, better get goin' now, g'night Miss.”  
  
He hurried to gather up his things as he spoke, with sudden eagerness to leave. She pulled the lamp closer to her when he was gone, turning over and inspecting the page that had been carefully removed from the book to keep it intact. The drawing was stunning, she felt like he made her look more beautiful. Her nose seemed to be a bit smaller, her lips a tad fuller, her lashes longer. But it was undoubtedly her, and drawn in such a skilled way, no one would believe a rough, hard criminal could produce something so beautiful, least of all her. Eliza cursed under her breath. She had been trying to find a reason to hate these people, for what they did to her and what they must have done to others. Likely they killed and robbed their way through the states, and here she sat in their midst, having been stolen from her house less than a month ago. Yet she was slowly but surely growing more fond of them. Hell, she even fell asleep with one of the kidnappers sitting right in front of her, had her caution dwindled that much? She despised herself for it, and muttered another curse as she laid down, trying to get comfortable for the night. If it wasn't for the kidnapping, this bunch really wouldn't seem so bad.  
  
  



	8. Assault

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for some drama. 
> 
> TW: sexual assault.

Her eyelids opened suddenly. Eliza could hear the metallic click of a key in the door, the opening of the latch making the bars around her vibrate slightly. She could barely make out the figure of a man, before he hopped into the wagon with a thud, immediately stifling her scream with his hard, forceful hand pressed against her mouth. The wagon swayed, and she instinctively tried to kick her knees between his legs with full force, but before she could land a hit, he was kneeling on her thighs, rendering her legs useless for defence. He snickered, the overwhelming stench of alcohol and sour sweat made her head spin, as her hands tried to find the sockets of his eyes.   
  
“That's right sweetie, gimme some fight.”  
  
He ignored her hands scratching at his face in blind panic, and he ripped the front of her camisole open with one hefty pull. Her heart hammered in her exposed chest as she realised this wasn't like any of her previous nightly encounters with her suiters, this man had done this before. Numerous times. She tried to free her face from his iron grip, but she only succeeded in him applying more pressure, it felt like her skull was gonna crack soon.  
  
“Yer daddy ain't gonna buy your freedom, even Dutch said so. Means you're worthless, means I get to have some fun with that pretty little cunt of yours before we throw you out somewhere.”  
  
He cackled a cold, drunken laugh, and her heart felt like it suddenly stopped completely. It was Micah.  
  
“Now be a good girl and start crying, I like it when they cry.”  
  
Her head swam. His free hand was now working to unlatch his belt buckle, his face out of reach for her. She dropped her arms and clenched her fists, then hit them hard against the metal bars with desperate force, to produce as much clanging as she could. She didn't feel the pain, only terror. He quickly stopped fumbling at his breeches and caught her arms, growling dangerously.  
  
“Now don't be causing such a ruckus, people will be mad if you wake them. Where's her tears you stupid whore, I said cry!”  
  
He lifted the hand from her mouth and slapped her cheek, hard. Eliza let out a yelp. Tears of pain were burning in her eyes, but she didn't want to let him see. Hell would take her before she’d fulfil his wish, her pride forbade it. The girl whimpered and he pushed his palm against her lips again, his fingers digging into her cheeks as he smothered the sound.  
  
“I'll make you feel real good, trust old Micah. You whores are all the same, acting all pure and innocent. I'm gonna - “ a thunderous roar came from outside, followed by the murmurs of confused, startled gang members that were woken up by it.  
  
“MICAH! SHIT!”  
  
The sound of heavy boots, approaching quickly. She could feel her heart again, violently hammering against her ribs, this time in a frenzy of hope. Someone heard, someone knew. They were coming to save her.  
  
“Get off her you piece of shit, Dutch told you she ain't to be harmed!”  
  
The tent flew open and Micah got yanked off her, hitting his head hard on the metal bar atop the doorway before he landed heavily on his back, outside in the mud. Within a second, a broad figure was on him, punching him repeatedly.   
  
“What do you think you were doin' in there you son of a bitch, I'mma god damn rip her disgusting head off!”  
  
 _Thump, thump, thump._   
  
Mica’s head was splashing back into the mud with every blow.  
Someone screamed, there were shouts. The camp seemed wide awake now. More hurried footsteps, but she didn't notice, her eyes were glued to the back of the man punching her attacker deeper and deeper into the mud, spewing out insults.   
  
_Thump, thump._  
  
Micah let out a gurgling laugh that chilled her right to the bone. He was insane.   
  
_Thump, thump, thump._  
  
Eliza barely noticed Karen and Mary-Beth slipping up into the wagon, draping a blanket over her shoulders, covering her up and whispering comforting words. She didn't hear any of it, and watched, still transfixed, as her saviour thrust Micah into the mud one final time.   
  
_Thump._  
  
He laid there, motionless. Then, Mr. Morgan straightened up and turned, taking a couple steps towards her wagon, his eyes reflecting the moonlight, still gleaming with rage. But there was concern there too.   
  
“I hope I wasn't too late. You alright Miss?”  
  
His voice was low and filled with searing anger, but his words were oddly clear. A stark contrast to the mumbling she’d heard from his lips so far. She pulled the blanket she only just really noticed tighter around herself, and gave a shaky nod. Her throat didn't comply with words, and Karen answered for her.  
  
“Dirty bastard ripped her camisole, but it don't look he got any further. Lucky you got to him when ya did.”  
  
Arthur gave a curt nod, scanning Eliza’s face intently as if to reassure himself that what she said was true. Her eyes were wide open still and staring back at him, shock and a tumult of conflicting feelings inside her. He directed his attention to the girls at her side.  
  
“You girls take care of her while I discard of this lousy piece of shit here. Dutch ain't back yet, but I doubt even he would take this asshole's side now.”  
  
He grabbed the collar of the man laying in the mud, covered in blood and filth, and dragged him out of her sight. The tent flap must have been swung so wide, it got caught on the roof of the wagon, and she stared blankly at the wet ground outside her tent.  
  
“Eliza, are you hurt?”  
  
She didn't answer, she didn't even take in the fact that she was spoken to. Mary-Beth tried again.  
  
“Eliza? Did he hurt you?”  
  
She turned her head to look at the girl who spoke, she was observing Eliza with a worried look on her face. Eliza didn't know, her heart still felt as if it wanted to jump out of her throat. At least the trembling of her body had subsided. Mary-Beth must have empathised, and wordlessly tugged her into a hug. She didn't know how long it had been since someone hugged her and the sensation had grown unfamiliar and foreign, but she couldn't help but yearn for the feeble safety her embrace promised. Eliza started to sob.  
  
“That stinking, god damn Micah!” Karen started up, in a fury. “Arthur shoulda killed him, he more than deserves it! Goin' round, tryin' to have his way with women wherever he's at, I swear Imma rip his balls off!”  
  
Mary-Beth held her tight, one hand drawing soothing circles on her back.   
  
“Where's Miss Grimshaw when she's needed to geld a deservin' bastard, now really! If he ever shows his face ‘round us ever again he’s so fucking dead I - ”  
  
“That's quite enough Miss Jones, why don't you go and fetch Miss Eliza some water.”  
  
Miss Grimshaw had arrived. Eliza hiccupped and lifted her head, her cheeks hot with tears and pain from the slap she had received earlier. Karen followed her order, leaving the tent, and the older woman’s gaze fell to rest on Eliza.  
  
“It's alright now Miss, you're safe. Tilly is looking for a replacement gown for you and Arthur is dealing with the _scum_. He won't hurt you no more.”  
  
Her diaphragm contracted again and Eliza nodded. “Thank you”, her voice was hoarse and barely more than a whisper. “He- he didn't... I mean he couldn't...” Helplessly, she turned her face to Mary-Beth, pleading her silently to finish the sentence for her. She hated sounding this weak. Mary-Beth understood.  
  
“Arthur got here before he could do any serious harm, Miss Grimshaw. Thank the Lord he heard, God knows what Micah would've done.”  
  
“Thank the Lord indeed. You're safe now Miss Cornwall, we'll make sure of that. That pig will not be coming anywhere near us again after Mr. Morgan is done with him, I guarantee you that.” She turned around, shouting at the crowd, that had gathered in front of her tent. “Now scurry everyone, there's nothing more to see here! Leave poor Miss Cornwall alone, she's had quite enough disturbance tonight. Ah, there you are Tilly, hurry up now you lazy girl, come here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God it was nice writing Micah getting beaten up. He's such a c*nt, honestly one of the most compelling villains I've ever met and he's had it loooong coming. How I wish Arthur could have done that in the game, without, well, what happens to him!


	9. Flowing Rivers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A nice, wholesome chapter for everyone after the drama last week. I like this one <3

Eliza was sitting in a fresh, untorn chemise on the furs, when Mr. Morgan returned. The girls went quiet as his face appeared in the entrance, the tent and her wagon were still wide open.  
  
“He's gone. He better stay gone, so God help me, or I'll make him feel real sorry.” He threw a quick, observant glance over the little group inside the cage. “How are ya feeling, Miss?”  
  
“Been better”, she replied hoarsely, her voice had calmed itself and barely shook anymore, thank the heavens.  
  
“Yeah, thought so. Can I do anything to help?”  
  
She shook her head, but Karen squeezed her hand, evidently disagreeing with her negation and revealed her idea.  
  
“You wanna go wash up? I know I always wanna scrub the filth off my body after some gross man touched me, makes me feel better every time. Could go down to the river, would sure be nicer than a bunch of wet rags”  
  
That sounded indeed very tempting, but she hadn’t been allowed stepped one foot outside the cage since her arrival. Wordlessly, she raised her head to peer at the man's face, curious if there was even a hint of the possibility to get a proper bath. Right now, she wasn't sure if she wanted to venture out into the wilderness either, with Micah still in the vicinity. Mr. Morgan seemed to contemplate, his brows furrowed.  
  
“Mmh, alright. But only if I come with you and stand guard. Ain't letting you girls go wander about alone in the dead of night. It ain't safe, even if that goddamn bastard wasn’t near.”  
  
It was as if he'd read her thoughts. The premise of him being there keeping them safe gave her a twisted sort of feeling in her gut, could she trust him? He was a dangerous criminal after all, but he just saved her from an even meaner one. Her head was full of scepticism.  
  
“Whatcha say Eliza? We'll take you to the river and help you wash up real good. Get his stink off yer body.” Karen nudged her with her elbow, and she nodded. “Sounds nice” she managed.  
  
“Alright then! Come on, get up and out this damned prison cell. We're gon' have ourselves a little midnight skinny dip!”  
  
The blonde girl was as loud and energetic as ever. She was the first one to leave the wagon and hurried off. Tilly and Mary-Beth helped Eliza to the door, where she hesitated. She hadn't been standing in a while, and wasn't sure her legs would support her, especially after tonight’s events. Under Mr. Morgan’s careful watch, presumably to keep her from running off, she dangled her legs over the edge, placing one, then a second bare foot onto the ground. The earth felt damp and cold beneath her toes, and she pushed herself off the wagon, stumbling a step forward into the mud outside, but coming to a more or less stable halt. She noticed the man's arm that had shot forward, in case she fell. He lowered it, glancing her over.   
  
“You okay Miss? Been a while since you were stood upright.”  
  
Eliza took a deep breath of the fresh, cool air and let out a sigh. The night smelled of damp earth, wet leaves and horse manure, but she cherished every little bit of it. The effect was immediate, and she felt relief flush through her. Tilly and Mary-Beth stepped out into the night behind her and hooked themselves under her arms on either side. No one else was up and about anymore, Miss Grimshaw must have shooed them back to bed. She thought she could see a few faces peering out of their tents though, stealing curious glances at her.  
Together, the four of them walked towards the horses. Eliza’s steps were wobbly, she couldn't quite tell if that was an after effect of the adrenaline that had rushed through her body earlier, or the multiple weeks she spent sat, crouched or laid in her wagon. She was glad the girls kept her steady, otherwise her legs would have surely given in, letting her fall into the mud.  
Karen was already waiting by the horses, a small bundle in her arms. She lifted it up with a grin as she approached.  
  
“New clothes! Thought we could burn the ones that got touched by that bastard.”  
  
The girls at her side laughed in delighted agreement, and Eliza joined in with a nervous chuckle. She liked the sound of that, but thought it was rather wasteful.  
  
“Alright, I think it's best if Miss Cornwall rides with me. Moonshine is strong enough to carry the two of us, and you'll be able to sit comfortably with your dress on.”  
  
Mr. Morgan had untied one of the horses, a hefty grey mare with black socks, and was leading her close to the group. The girls giggled, and Karen caught Tilly’s elbow in her ribs with a grunt, before she could speak. A taunting remark lurked on her tongue, Eliza was sure, one of the likes that made her cheeks flush so easily. She could feel the heat rising to her head, but for an entirely different reason. Moonshine was the horse she was laid on when they brought her here, the memory of the fear she felt that night was still vivid in her mind. She watched as she dug her hoof in the ground before her. The mare was enormous in size, though Eliza couldn't deny her beauty. She had a fierce, wild aura about her, but her eyes exuded patience.  
Mr. Morgan looked at her for approval, and as she forced herself to nod, he wrapped his hands firmly around her waist and lifted her up so she was able to shift onto her back, behind the saddle. Her mind was racing back to the last time she was tied here, but she forced the memory out of her thoughts. This was a different situation and she didn’t have to be afraid anymore, tonight’s terror was over. Mr. Morgan secured the saddle straps and the girls went and mounted their horses, Karen stowed the bundle of clothes behind her. Then he hoisted himself up, adjusting his stirrups slightly.  
  
“You might wanna hold onto me, Miss. She's got a gentle gait, but just to be sure you ain't fallin' off.”  
  
Eliza hesitated. He was right of course, so she pushed away her apprehensive feelings and held onto the sides of his jacket, sliding slightly closer, so the back of the saddle was pressed against her right thigh. He spurred his horse into a walk, the girls overtaking them two in a trot, giddy with adventure. Moonshine was indeed a very smooth ride, but his jacket alone didn't provide much stability to her seat. As the ground dipped downhill, Eliza could feel her hind quarters sway deeply from side to side, as she sure footedly found her way downhill. The girl was forced to wrap her arms around his waist instead to prevent from slipping. The three descended the hill together in silence, Moonshine’s mouth playfully fishing for some tall grass and fresh leaves in passing. Karen shouted from further ahead.  
  
“Get a move on guys, water ain't gonna get any cleaner!” The blonde woman laughed and spurned her horse into a canter when she reached the shallower decline, turning it towards what looked like a wide river bed, the two other girls following her, whooping.  
  
“I sure as hell ain't gonna pick 'em up if they fall off their horses. What’s with them silly girls.”   
  
Mr. Morgan shook his head, enticing an amused exhale on her behalf. After a moment of consideration, Eliza spoke up.  
  
“Thank you for earlier, Mr. Morgan. I don't know how you were there at just the right moment, but I really appreciate you coming to my aid.”  
  
He scoffed.  
  
“Had my eye on that piece of crap for a while now. He ain't the sort of feller that's decent at the best of times.” he replied, in a low, disgusted growl. After a short pause, he added “And it's Arthur, Miss. I ain't a Mr. at the best of times either. But at least I won't leave a caged woman to fend to herself against a creature as filthy as him.”  
  
Her involuntary smile widened. “Alright then, Arthur. Still, you have my thanks, I don't know how I could ever repay you.”  
  
“Don’ worry ‘bout it Miss”, he mumbled, in the low, almost inaudible tone she was used to coming from him. They had reached the flatter stretch at the bottom of the hill, and he increased Moonshine’s walk to a trot, carrying them the rest of the way down to the river, in revived silence. The girls came back into view, they had already dismounted near a thick growth of trees next to the river and were splashing each other in the shallow water, Karen naked as the day she was born.   
Morgan halted the mare near the rest of the horses, shaking his head whilst dismounting. Positioning himself before Eliza he expectantly raised his arms, after a moment’s hesitation she leaned forward and placed her hands on his broad shoulders, allowing him to soften the impact of her feet on the ground. He supported her until she stood steady, then he stepped back, bringing his attention to his saddle bag, rummaging for something. Karen’s call sounded from her left as she approached, seemingly unconcerned about her indecency, throwing one arm over Eliza’s shoulders.   
  
“Ey, ya don’t happen to have some soap with ya, do you Arthur? Forgot mine at camp and we gon’ need somethin’ to scrub Lady Eliza’s delicate skin”  
  
He didn’t look up from his bag but seemed to switch to a different area in it, swiftly producing a bar of soap. He held it out in her direction all the while not looking up. Karen snatched it out of his hand and laughed.  
  
“Yer always such a prude Morgan, ain’t no crime lookin’ at a naked woman if she’s standing before ya willingly!”  
  
The night was dark and cloudy still, not providing much illumination, but Eliza could swear she could see the colour rise to the tall man’s cheeks. He muttered something about manners, his eyes flicking in her direction, but carefully keeping them on the level of her heads. Karen laughed again.  
  
“Go on, get washed up. I’ll wait here, makin’ sure no one’s gonna bother ya.”  
  
He flicked his chin up, gesturing them to head off, so they turned, dragging a giggling Karen with them. The sharp stones of the riverbed cut into her feet and Eliza was still slightly wobbly, so soon Karen did the dragging and she followed, wincing at every other step. Oh how she longed for her soft wild leather boots, stood beside the door in her room back at home. She didn’t think she’d ever see them again.  
Tilly and Mary-Beth had disrobed as well, staying modestly behind the greenery where they were hidden from Morgan’s position. Eliza was relieved to see it was only Karen, who was so brazenly unashamed to expose herself in front of the other sex.  
After a quick glance through the bushes, making sure there was no chance he could peer through a gap in the foliage, she took off her borrowed chemise and the skirt underneath, and stepped close to the river. The waves touching her toes felt icy and cold, sending a shiver down her spine. She stepped in further, ignoring the uncomfortable knot in her sternum, as the freezing water touched the soft skin beneath her belly button, and to not draw it out she bent her knees, submerging herself up to her throat and her whole body tensed for a moment, then relaxed. It was cold alright, but as her muscles loosened, she laid her head back, wetting her hair and embracing the chill waves flowing around her body, letting them caress her gooseprickly skin. Eliza let out a serene sigh. This was the best she’d felt in weeks, in spite of the horrid events of the night.

It didn’t take long for her to clean up, especially with the help of her friends. She decided that they deserved this place in her heart. The three women had kept her spirits up in the cage and had her back, she liked them well enough. Their giggling gossip had entertained and informed her, through them she felt like she knew the other gang members as if she’d met them herself already. The three helped scrubbing her from head to toe with the rough bar of soap, stripping away the memory of Micah’s revolting touch. The girls enjoyed the pleasant flow of the water together, floating slowly downstream on the surface, and when they were dangerously close to the edge of visibility around the bushes at the shore, they’d push her legs under their bodies and the four of them swam back into guaranteed safety, tittering with flushed faces. Karen of course would let herself drift further than any of them, and if the man standing guard would have turned around, he’d have seen her _everything_.   
Eliza returned to the shore, where Karen had laid out a fresh chemise and pair of white bloomers for her. Thankful, she slipped them on, the clothes being slightly too big Tilly observed, but she didn’t care.  
  
“Ain’t everyone got as marvellous a pair of knockers as mine, sorry ‘bout it!” Karen expelled laughing at Tilly’s comment, pushing her still naked chest up.   
  
Eliza averted her eyes with burning cheeks, wondering how a woman got to become such an exhibition of wicked indecency. She didn’t dislike her for it though, her behaviour muddled with the picture of what an ideal woman should behave like, that was planted in her mind by her family and tutors. She felt a pinch of admiration and jealousy over her shamelessly carefree attitude.  
  
When the three were dressed in the underclothes they had brought with them, Mary-Beth handed her a matchbox, encouraging her to set fire to the pile of fabric on the ground. She complied, and staring into the flames she noticed the last bits of agitation and shock flow out of her, flurrying away amidst the embers, carried by the grey smoke rising from the pile of fibre that were slowly turning into ash. It only took a few minutes, before the fire dwindled, and died, no evidence left behind of anything that was ever an item fit for wear.  
They stepped around the bushes, Eliza’s feet still wincing in pain from the pointy pebbles, but her legs were steady enough to carry her without the danger of tripping over. Morgan stood by the horses, a hand on his gunbelt, the other holding a cigarette to his lips. His gaze shot to them when the little group in white came into view. He took a drag of the glimming tube and gave a half smile in their direction, the smoke escaping his mouth as he inquired about the new attire.  
  
“Yeah, we burned the old ones. Felt kinda good!”, Eliza admitted, smiling a shy smile herself.   
  
He kept his gaze on eye level, it suddenly dawned on her that her top was damp, her chest and back wet from the trickle of water dripping off her hair, and would be showing off every contour on her body. She shuddered and crossed her arms before her chest, hoping it would somewhat obscure the view. He took another draw of his cigarette and dropped the butt onto the ground, extinguishing it with his boot.  
  
“You ladies ready to head back? Night won’t last longer than a couple hours now, better get some rest while ya can. Dutch will be back in the mornin’ and he’ll have questions I bet.”  
  
The girls answered in agreement and hurried to their horses, Morgan offering Eliza his hand again. She took it and he helped her up into the stirrup, she swung her leg over the mare’s back and hopped backwards off the saddle, giving him space to mount up in his turn. He spun her head around with a soft tug at the reins, and the little group started the trek back up the hill in relaxed silence whilst leaving her to muse over the curious polarity of this man. Any other she’d met before, even her uncle, would surely have stolen a glance at four scarcely clothed young women, dripping wet from their naked bath in the wilderness. Yet here he was, a criminal that didn’t seem to oppose the kidnapping and imprisoning of an innocent woman, let alone trying to blackmail her father into handing over a large sum of money, but he wouldn’t even so much as look into the direction of an indecently dressed woman. Or Karen, taunting him whilst being bare-ass naked. He certainly had some skewed morals, but she was glad he had some in the first place.  
  
“At least you’re able to sit comfortably now in those bloomers, Miss”, his voice lifted her out of her contemplation, “unless ye prefer to ride sat sideways like a highborn lady.”  
  
Her lips curled into a smile.  
  
“That’s true. And it’s Eliza, I ain’t no highborn lady at the best of times.”  
  
The sound of his chuckle widened her smirk. She had to hold on tighter now, the incline was steepening and she was at risk of sliding off Moonshine’s back. A gust of wind brushed against her damp body, making her shiver. She instinctively leaned closer to the warmth of his back, lightly leaning her right temple against the worn leather of his jacket. Tiredness washed over her, and she wondered when she had started to trust this man.

___

Back at the camp, everyone tended to their horses and Eliza stood by, watching their swift and trained movements as they heaved off the saddles and untied the reigns. She wanted to enjoy her brief grasp at freedom for as long as possible, the depressing thought of having to sit back in the prison wagon again looming over her. A short while later, Morgan excused himself and entrusted Karen and the gang to lead her back to her ‘ _home’._  
  
They nodded and escorted her back to the tall makeshift tent at the edge of the camp, apologising and giving her pitiful looks when they locked the door again.   
  
“This ain’t no way of keeping ya, we’ll have a word with Miss Grimshaw t’morrow. Maybe she can convince Dutch ta let you walk free, yer as good as one of us now anyway.”  
  
Eliza smiled at Mary-Beth, what she hoped would convey the full extent of her gratitude. Within herself, she felt disappointment, rising anxiousness and a strong disdain for their pity. Since when had she become a woman to be _pitied_. They wished her a good night and departed, and Eliza laid down on her furs, huddling herself into the warming blanket. Exhaustion of the nights events took her before long, and she drifted off into sleep.


	10. Bastards and Snakes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dutch comes back to camp, and he's not alone.

It was only just after sunrise, when Dutch’s loud, infuriated voice pulled Eliza into consciousness. The canvas was lit up dimly and she could hear birds sing, the sun must have only just risen over the horizon.   
  
“What is the _meaning_ of this, Arthur? You had no authority to throw Micah out of the camp! Explain yourself, now!”   
  
His tone was scolding, but there was something deeper, more dangerous that lurked beneath the surface. It was terrifying. She had thought he’d surely take her side on this matter, after all the times he came to sit and talk with her. He seemed to take a liking to her and right now, she wouldn’t even have minded this to be the case.  
Morgan replied, his words spat out in an angry growl.  
  
“Why the hell would ya bring that filthy piece of shit back here, Dutch? I don’t believe it, after what he tried to do with _your_ hostage! Unless he didn’t tell ya ‘bout the part where he molested that poor girl; he’s a dirty scumbag, good fer nothin’ but target practise!”  
  
A broken, sneering voice that sent the cold running down her spine, chimed in.  
  
“To hell with that bitch, I was only gonna scare her. Ain’t my fault if she’s got one of them brittle natures!”  
  
Micah was here? Back in the camp, and Dutch was the one that let him? Her fists clenched hard on the edge of the rough woollen blanket, the knuckles turning white instantaneously.   
  
“Scare her? _Scare her?!_ Don’t tell me ya believe that son of a bitch, he clambered into the girls wagon in the dead of night Dutch, tryna hold her down and have his way with her! He ripped her goddamn blouse open, his pants halfway down his legs before I got t’him!”  
  
Morgan’s volume was steadily raising, spitting out the last part for the whole camp to hear. There were murmurs, Eliza thought (or hoped) they seemed affirmative, and a moment of silence from Dutch.  
Then a _thump,_ and heavy footsteps were approaching her direction. The tent flap flew wide open, and much like last night, got caught on the top of the wagon. Mr. van der Linde’s backlit silhouette appeared and she blinked against the bright beams of sunlight hitting her in the face from around him.  
  
“Is Arthur telling the truth? Did Micah assault you?”   
  
He spoke in a low, controlled tone. His voice was firm, yet she thought she could detect the slightest hint of a raging jitter towards the end, implying his composure was pure show. Bubbling up came renewed wariness at his facade, hiding all his true feelings and intentions. She couldn’t trust this man, no matter how sweet his words and actions seemed. Swallowing heavily she nodded. With great difficulty, she managed to form the sentences that would relay the events of last night.  
  
“He- he was already over me when I woke up. Told me that I was… I was worthless, that you said herself my father wouldn’t p-pay the money…. That he could do whatever…. Whatever he wanted with me…”   
  
Her voice cracked, trailed off and failed her. Her fate was in his hands entirely and that scared her. It was impossible to make out the expression on his face, but she could see his shoulders rise and fall, he was breathing heavily. Micah’s shout got his attention and he turned around, exiting her field of view.  
  
“She’s _lyin’_ boss! Whore’s a nasty, crooked one!”  
  
“Now you shut your mouth Mr. Bell! Dutch, Arthur and the girl are telling the truth.”  
  
Miss Grimshaw’s interference gave her a jolt of hope. Tilly’s face appeared in the tent opening, she hushed inside and gripped Eliza’s hand tightly.  
  
“Don’t worry, we won’t let him get away with it. Dutch will have to see what a disgusting man he is now”, she whispered. Grimshaw continued.  
  
“This snake got away lightly, if it were me who caught him he’d have one bullet in his groin and one in his head Dutch. Who knows how far he’d taken it if no one heard him, Arthur saved that poor girls life most like!”  
  
Micah’s protests were clearly audible over the now louder murmurs of agreement, Karen’s shouts of _dirty asshole,_ and _fuck you Micah_ were easy to make out in the jumble of mumbled words in the crowd that seemed to have gathered close to her tent. Miss Grimshaw continued.  
  
“He’s bullying the girls, calling them profanities and tried to molest them before, Dutch, you know that as well as I do. Only until now you’ve been excusing his actions, just because he’s a good shot. I won’t have it any more! The women in this camp have suffered his disgusting behaviour long enough!”  
  
Dutch answered, in a tone much too unfazed for Eliza’s liking. “Miss Grimshaw, please. He’s more than a good shot, he’s been an invaluable asset to our plans since he joined us, you profited from his actions as much as any of us. If it is truly as you say, we have to evaluate on the importance of a few… indecent actions against real, solid contribution to the gang.”  
  
Arthurs voice retaliated, ringing with bitter rage.  
  
“ _Indecent actions?_ You’re kiddin’ right? I ain’t no liar and neither is she, Dutch. If we hadn’t been there he’d goddamn _indecently_ defiled and disposed of her, it’s about time you saw him for the stinkin’ snake he is! If ya keep defendin’ him, I’ll have to start t’ wonder if you’re the man I thought you was.”  
  
“It’s just- it’s just not that simple, Arthur., I-“  
  
Hosea’s high, croaky voice interrupted him. Eliza hadn’t seen him anywhere last night, presumed he didn’t know anything or just heard the stories from others. Obviously, she was wrong. He spoke at his usual, casual sonority, yet his words were underlaid by a firm, decided quality. If anyone could influence Dutch’s firm set mind, it was his oldest friend.  
  
“Dutch, Arthur is right. Micah’s had his uses, sure, he’s skilled beyond imagining. But the way he attacked Miss Eliza, that’s proof of a rotten character, right to the core. After this, I couldn’t trust him as far as I can spit, I’m sure the majority here will agree. He’s a threat, he’s always been a threat to our people, and he doesn’t belong in this gang, Dutch. This _family_.”  
  
A third time, a humming wave of agreement by multiple voices. Scoffing, most likely from Micah, and after a few seconds Dutch seemed to let out a defeated sigh.  
  
“Alright Hosea, I see your point. I ain’t happy about it, I never once had to exile someone from this gang. We save the ones need savin’! But man isn’t a wild beast, sin excused by animalistic instincts, and if someone, _anyone_ , can’t control their urges within their own family, it’s our responsibility to keep them far away.”  
  
Eliza’s breath was shallow, she wanted - no, needed - to catch every word. Her fingers, intertwined in Tilly’s, were numb by now, but she took no notice.  
  
“Boss, you can’t mean-“  
  
“I mean exactly that, Micah. You’ve crossed a line and there’s no way back. You ignored my orders; I said the Lady is not to be harmed. I trusted you, relied on you following and sharing my ideas, but you have brought us trouble in the past by straying from the plan. I’m sorry, but rules are rules and no one, _no one_ in our group is exempt from facing punishment if they are broken.”  
  
Micah let out a scream, angry and frustrated. Then he started to laugh.  
  
“Yer gonna regret this y’all! I’m telling you, you’re all gonna regret this.”  
  
“Get out of here you piece of shit, next time I see yer miserable mug I’ll put a bullet in it, I swear that on the grave of my dead momma.”   
  
Morgan’s dangerous growl, full of hatred and disgust was followed by a cackle, and Karen yelling more profanities after Micah, who seemed to be retreating. Shouting ensued, Eliza imagined Micah had pushed people out of his way to get to the horses, now the thunder of withdrawing hoofbeats was to be heard.   
Tilly’s hand relaxed a little, Eliza only now noticed how firmly the two of them had held together. They exhaled in unison. Miss Grimshaw was speaking to Hosea, and Arthur retold last night’s events to Dutch in their entirety. Eliza listened, as his infuriation gave way to a calmer, yet gruff tone, reporting on the trip to the river. Dutch wanted to intersect, but Morgan kept talking, not allowing to be interrupted. When he reached the end, there was quiet. After a few moments, Hosea spoke up, appeasing Dutch who likely was still angry.  
  
“You did the right thing. You always said the value of a person isn’t in their words, it’s in their actions. He’s shown his value last night, when he tried to take advantage of that poor girl, he’s tried the same with Karen when he first came here, remember?”  
  
Dutch let out a defeated sigh.  
  
“I don’t know if it was the right thing, old friend. He’s not someone I ever wanted to have as an enemy, even I must admit he’s brighter than most, and cunning. Ruthless even. These traits were indeed of great value when he used them in our favour… I daren’t think about what damage he could cause if, no, _when_ he uses them against us.”  
  
“I know Dutch, I know. It’s a mess.”  
  
The two continued their conversation, but Eliza’s attention got attracted by Morgan appearing in the tent entrance. He didn’t seem surprised to see Tilly there, the two tightly huddled against the bars where they sat together. He let himself slump down onto the little stool Dutch had brought in, so long ago.  
  
“He’s got a bright head on his shoulders, but sometimes he’s just such a…. Such a damn stubborn bastard”, he said pained with a defeated sigh. “He don’t wanna see the ugly sides of useful people, always followin’ his own agenda more than what’s good for us all… This was the worst thing ever happened to us though. Sorry he’s such a bullheaded idiot sometimes. I swear he cares ‘bout your wellbeing, wouldn’t have sat here for hours if he didn’t like yer company.”  
  
Tilly enthusiastically agreed.   
  
“He can be hard to get through to, but he’s a good man, kept us safe all them years and always treated us girls well enough. He ain’t blind, he was just… Just…”  
  
“-blinded. By that darned snake.”  
  
Morgan nodded. Eliza was thankful for their soothing words, but told herself to never let Dutch get too close to her. She couldn’t rely on a man who valued personal gain over his friends’ distress, criminal or no.   
  
“I’m just glad he believed us. Thank you for standing up for me Arthur.”  
  
She shot him a thankful look, he held her gaze for a moment with a soft curiosity in his eyes, then attempted a half smile.  
  
“It’s nothin’. Wanted to beat his ugly face an’ throw him out since I first met him, only now I had proper reason to. Seems like I owe you thanks instead.”  
  
Eliza couldn’t help but smile. Hating Micah from the first moment was something they both could agree on. The three of them sat in soothing silence, Dutch and Hosea’s conversation was still going outside. She listened to them discussing Micah and his many missteps he’d had since he’d been running with the gang, and she wondered how he’d not been thrown out long before now. Then their topic of conversation changed and turned to her, discussing the late night swimming trip, Dutch still didn’t seem overly happy at the notion of Arthur approving this. What to do with a kidnapped girl, that seemed to bond well with the part of the gang she’d met, showing no desire to escape her prison and had proven useless in their plan of blackmailing her father? Her heart jolted as Hosea suggested a solution.  
  
“Dutch, I know she’s still supposed to be our hostage, but it’s time we let her out of that damned cage, don’t you think? I’m sure Susan will keep a close eye on her.”


	11. First Steps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little light hearted one, where we meet some more camp members and enjoy the freedom. Might upload the next one sooner since it's only a short one.

Susan, as it turned out, was Miss Grimshaw. Eliza wasn’t overly fond of having her hovering over her for the rest of the morning, making her do chores like cleaning last nights crusted dinner plates, feeding the chickens and mending clothes, but the freedom to walk outside under the clear sky was more than worth it. She’d never had to wash so many dishes in her life, but it turned out her sewing expertise was far better than the other girls’ skills, so soon she was sat by Mary-Beth’s tent, under a mountain of garments that needed a seam fixing here, a button reattaching there, and the old woman entrusted her into the care of Karen, who chattered, bantered and taunted away whilst Eliza was patching up everyone’s clothes. Mary-Beth would return the items to most people, yet two would come and pick theirs up themselves, offering their thanks and made a quick introduction. She met the drunkard Swanson, less intoxicated than usual Karen remarked, and the curious boy Jack Marston that way. Swanson was pretty much as the girls described him to her; drunk, stinking of liquor, hair unkempt; but all in all not an unpleasant man. His manners didn’t seem to waver with alcohol, not a lot of people could claim this feat. Jack on the other hand seemed awkward and shy, even her widest, warmest smile couldn’t get more than a handful of words out of him. She imagined he must be very lonely, with no friends his own age to play with.   
Riders came and went to and from the camp whilst she was working away, Eliza thought she could recognise a few by the detailed descriptions she’d heard from the girls. As she picked up one of the last items, a stout man approached. She recognised him by his half-caste looks and the braided hair with the eagle feather tied to it. What was his name?  
  
“Gooood mornin’ Charles! Don’t think she’s got to yer lot yet, she’s been workin’ like a slavegirl ‘ere!”  
  
Charles, that was it. He just nodded at the blonde and squatted down at the tree trunk opposite, his dark eyes resting on Eliza.   
  
“Morning. Just thought I’d come by and see if you’d let me watch, always good to pick up a new skill.”  
  
In surprise, she halted her hands, the needle threaded halfway through the next stitch. He held her gaze for a while, then gestured with his chin to the fabric on her lap.  
  
“Never learnt how to sew proper, be good for being out there. Name’s Charles by the way. Miss Cornwall, is it?”  
  
“Just Eliza is fine. And of course, you’re more than welcome to watch! I’ll mend your things as soon as I’m done with these breeches, which ones belong to you?”  
  
He leaned forward and picked up a long blue tunic, similar to the one he wore now, with a tear along one sleeve, and laid it out on top of the now small pile.   
  
“That’s the only one? Alright, this won’t be much longer.”  
  
He nodded and hummed an approving sound, now sitting cross legged in front of her, attentively following the practised movements of her hands. Tilly had told her he wasn’t a talker, but she didn’t expect his silence to feel so easy and light, letting her concentrate on the task at hand without the slightest feel of awkwardness. His genuine interest surprised and flattered her.  
Every now and then he asked a question in his low, mellow voice, and she explained to him how she made sure the thread stays put at the beginning and end of every seam, how to sew a tear shut without a trace of any work having been done or how many loops would secure a loose button, without making it too rigid to use. She finished fixing the rip on his tunic and he took it off her with thanks, folded it neatly and put it beside him, but he stayed and kept watching. At some point Karen had vanished, likely presuming he’d make sure Eliza wouldn’t run anywhere. Not that she could have if she wanted to, if what the girls had told her about Charles was true, he could track her across half the country within a less than a day. Besides, she relished her newly found freedom too much to attempt such a foolish escape.  
As she was done with the last items, he thanked her and asked if there was anything he could do to return the favour.  
  
“Skill for skill! Is there anything you’re particularly good at that you could show me? I’ve spent most of my life indoors and got taught the most useless things like how to dance the polka or which fork to use first in a three course meal, I doubt these things will come to handy if I should be of any use to the camp!”  
  
You gave a laugh, and the corners of his mouth flicked, the amusement spreading to his eyes. He seemed to contemplate.  
  
“Hm… I could teach you how to make different arrows, poison knives or improve throwing weapons. Or I could take you hunting I suppose?”  
  
“Hunting?”   
  
The idea of killing poor animals repulsed her, but she wasn’t a child, she knew where all the meat for the stews had come from. Most of it from Charles himself if Hosea was to believed, and believe him she did. He would probably be the best man to show her the way around tracking and shooting, which, in case she was stuck out in the wilderness with nothing to her name, would be handy to have in her repertoire of tricks. Yes, hunting was the most rational choice.  
  
“That would be really helpful Charles. I hope Miss Grimshaw lets me get away for a bit sometime soon”, she pulled a pained smile.  
  
“She seems tough”, the dark skinned man answered with empathy in his gaze. “Wouldn’t want to get on her wrong side.”  
  
He lifted himself up with a grunt and picked up his tunic, thanking her once more and promising to take her out for a lesson sometime soon. Eliza was oddly looking forward to it, even though it meant taking the lives of sweet, innocent creatures. But such was nature, and she may have to survive on her own soon, if her father wouldn’t buy her freedom, she’d have to grasp it by herself. And what would be more liberating than being able to survive on her own?

He departed just as Mary-Beth came back to pick up and distribute the rest of the clothes. As Eliza didn’t get given another task yet, she followed her, taking in the surroundings.   
Mr. van der Linde’s tent in the middle of the camp was easy to spot, as it was the best furnished and most spacious around. He even had a gramophone in there, something her mother always wanted but never could afford back in England. When she died and Eliza got taken in by her Father, the lavishness of his lifestyle repulsed her, and grief made sure she’d never touch one of these devices, which he had scattered in various rooms of his manor. It somehow felt wrong, to enjoy something her beloved Mum always wanted, but would never possess.   
The tent next to it was less a tent and more a wagon with a canopy attached to it, but it looked comfortable enough. There were a few more wagons fashioned in the same way, as well as pitched tents of various sorts. All in all, there seemed to be space for about twenty people. Smaller than what she expected of an outlaw gang, but then it didn’t really seem very outlaw-ish at all. Not sure what to expect, her imagination had been running wild while sat in the prison wagon, yet the reality was so incredibly _normal,_ confounding her deeply.  
Surrounded by a forest or a wood, the camp seemed to end at a steep hillside or cliff, and as she was following the brunette girl closer to the edge, she could catch a glimpse of the forested horizon. This must be the fabled view Morgan mentioned, and she was eager to get right up to the ledge, to see the full extent of its beauty. For now though, she was stuck, glued to Mary-Beth, not wanting to be seen wandering about alone, in fear they’d lock her back up behind those hated bars.


	12. Honesty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of my favourite chapters so far, even though simple C: We're having a good long chat with Arthur.

“I’ve got your pants here Mr. Strauss, Eliza fixed them up for you!”  
  
The old German looked up from his enormous book, inspecting the two of them over the brim of his spectacles with cold calculation in his glance. He took the trousers off her hands and inspected them closely, finally nodding in approval, which drew a sigh of relief from her.   
  
“These look in order, thank you Miss Cornwall.”  
  
“Eliza’s real good at this! If you got anything else you want mending, just give it to Miss Grimshaw.”  
  
Mary-Beth gave him a polite smile and turned, grasping Elizas elbow to tug her along.   
  
“He gives me the creeps he does. I done scams and robberies and ain’t an honest woman myself, I know, but his way of making money just ain’t right”, she whispered when they were out of earshot. “Lending to the poor and then beating it back out of them when they’re in a bad way, it just feels… _wrong_.”  
  
“I agree with ya there Mary-Beth he’s a devious man. Good t’see you out and about Eliza.”  
  
Neither of the girls had noticed Morgan standing behind the kitchen wagon, close to them. He tipped his hat in polite greeting and smiled a tilted smile.  
  
“Bein’ a robber and a thief is one thing, but stealin’ from the folks he steals from ‘s too low, even for a thug like me. Glad I gave up on assisting him a while back, always left me with the feeling I done something I shouldn’t.”  
  
He pulled a cigarette out of his satchel and sparked it up, taking a long draft. Mary-Beth agreed with him.  
  
“I know we ain’t no decent folk ourselves, but you got that right. I’m glad you gave it up too Arthur, who knows what could’ve happened to ya one day. Only takes one wrong feller!”  
  
“You implyin’ I couldn’t take care of myself out there Mary-Beth?” Morgan taunted, but chuckled amused at Mary-Beth’s bashful denial. He inhaled yet another breath of smoke, his eyes trailing over the wagons and tents.  
  
“You been on the cliff yet, to see the river?” He was looking at Eliza now, gesturing to the edge of the camp.   
  
“No, I haven’t had the chance yet. Also didn’t want to run away from my chores, I thought… they might throw me back into the cell if someone caught me just wandering about alone”, she replied sheepishly.  
  
“Well you ain’t alone if I’m there. Come on, let’s take a look! You comin’ too Mary-Beth?”  
  
Eliza silently pleaded she’d say yes, but the girl declined, saying she had some stuff to do. Being alone with Morgan had always been awkward so far, so she mentally prepared herself for the stiff talk and uncomfortable silences. He pleasantly surprised her however, being much more talkative than what she was used to from the two times he’d been sat in the tent with her.  
  
“You ain’t seen nothin’ of this country until you had a look at this. In all of New Hanover, I think this is my favourite spot.”  
  
They approached the ledge together, and her breath faltered. The landscape that unfolded before her was indeed one of the most beautiful scenes she’d ever seen. The broad river beyond the suddenly dropping terrain was twining its way lazily in big, sweeping curves along barren cliffs. The conifers and pines of these parts were showing off a deep, lush green and were gathering in dense forests that covered the hills beyond. The grassy patches at the foot and on top of the cliffs were filled with colourful spring flowers, much loved by the few herds of deer and pronghorns grazing peacefully and far off in the distance, framing the land to her right were great, snow capped mountains reaching high up into the sky.  
  
“It’s incredible, isn’t it”, Arthur said in a soft, low voice. “Like nature is showin’ off somethin’ her best side, just for yourself it feels.”  
  
Eliza nodded, but couldn’t reply, her eyes transfixed on a flock of wild geese, flying in their typical V-formation, presumably headed north. Everything seemed serene and perfect, this was the epitome of nature’s beauty. Morgan sighed blissfully, taking another draft of his cigarette.  
  
“Sometimes I sit ‘ere against that rock and draw the canyon, done it a few times but it ain’t ever started to get borin’. When I can steal away from Dutch and his missions, that is.” He laughed, and she could feel her lips draw into a smile. With great effort, she averted her eyes from the beautiful scenery, to look at the man that had carried her away from her old life. He didn’t seem dangerous anymore, gruff and awkward maybe, but he had saved her dignity and maybe even her life. He felt her gaze lingering and returned it with a quizzical look, quickly offering her the packet of cigarettes.  
  
“You smoke?”  
  
She shook her head, but took one anyway. This got him to chuckle. He rummaged in his pouch for a match, struck it against the sole of his boot and held it in front of her, so her could light up her cigarette. Her took a long inhale, but before the smoke reached the bottom of her lungs she started to cough violently, bending over and having to hold herself up against the boulder next to her. Morgan’s roaring laughter made the heat rise up to her cheeks, embarrassed by the foolish act and inability to do something so simple as to smoke a damn cigarette. Still coughing, Eliza grimaced at him and threw the cigarette to the ground, her eyes teary from the pain. He patted her on her back, to ease her discomfort.  
  
“Takes a bit of getting used to, ‘specially for a lady of your standin’.”, he smiled. “Shouldn’t be so eager to fit in, we’re a bunch of misfits and scoundrels ‘ere, and you’ll hopefully get back to your father soon. He won’t be overly impressed if his precious daughter was suddenly behaving like a hoodlum I bet!”  
  
“Precious daughter, yeah right”, she managed to choke out. Pushing herself up to stand tall again – which was still not very – she waved his words away, “my father wouldn’t care if I were to drown in front of his eyes; he won’t buy me back.”   
  
Her tone was bitter, but for once she didn’t care. This knowledge had pained her for long enough and kept her up at night, but now, spoken aloud, it still hurt more than she thought it would. She could feel Morgan’s eyes on her, but her gaze was set on a spot in the green hills far away. He kept quiet, so she continued.  
  
“Ever since my mother died and he had to take me in, he hated me. Tried to get rid of me by offering me as bride to his… his _business partners_ , to sweeten some deal or other. He may be my father, but he’s not my dad. I hate him.”  
  
The girl could feel tears rising to her eyes for a different reason than the pain in her lungs, but she just blinked them away, annoyed at the repeated display of weakness in front of strangers.

“Sorry ‘bout your mom”, Morgan said, his voice quiet and full of empathy. “Must’ve been real hard for ya.”  
  
She hummed a response. Together, they stared out into the valley, where the sun hung low over the green ridges. For a while, no one spoke a word.  
  
“How come you speak like an Englishwoman, yer ma from England?”  
  
Breaking the silence by changing the topic just enough to leave out the hurt and asking her a personal question all at the same time. Smooth. She contemplated for a moment, trying to weigh how much information she was willing to give.  
  
“We both are, actually. She didn’t tell me much about how she met my father, but she returned from America pregnant, and had me. We lived in a small cottage in York, or near it at least. Didn’t have much, but it was enough to get by… Until she died and I had to come here to live with _him_.”  
  
“Cornwall.”  
  
It wasn’t a question, but Eliza nodded and scoffed.  
  
“A man I’ve never met in my life, and he didn’t have much interest in raising a daughter. Was sixteen at that time, so soon he started to introduce me to all kinds of men, first was excited and thought he’d want to show me off as his exotic little daughter, I soon realised he just wanted to advertise me as available. Went all downhill from there.”

  
Morgan stood silent for a moment, then bowed his head and scraped the ground before him with his boot.  
  
“Don’t sound like you had it easy.”  
  
“I suppose not”, she sighed, deflated, “but at least I’m alive. You know, that night you guys kidnapped me I thought I might die.”  
  
Her voice was earnest, but her smile betrayed the serious tone. He chuckled.  
  
“That was never the plan, Miss. Dutch just wanted to get some easy money to finally leave this place, goin’ to Tahiti or somethin’. Been going on about that for the last two years though, not sure it’s ever gonna happen.”  
  
He extinguished the butt of his last cigarette with his boot, then made it clear he was ready to leave. His glance hovered over her.  
  
“You know… If ya don’t wanna go back to yer pa, I’m sure Miss Grimshaw would love to have another pair of hands to do some work in the camp. She ain’t a kind woman, but would rather shoot the men than offer them any of her girls up for married life.”  
  
Her heart skipped a beat at this. Staying here? With them? Her many feelings were opposing each other. They kidnapped her, yet treated her nicely enough. They were ruthless criminals, yet she hadn’t see any cruel activities so far. They were outlaws. But if she didn’t return to her father, what would make that out of her…?  
Morgan didn’t speak any more, as they returned to camp, leaving her to reflect on his words. He led her to the cooking pot, near a handful of men waiting for dinner to be served and excused himself, thanking her for the chat. She watched him absentmindedly as he walked to the other end of the camp where the horses were grazing peacefully.   
Her mind was too preoccupied with the argument in her head to feel the first butterfly in her stomach gingerly unfolding its wings.


	13. Skill for Skill

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonding time with one of my favourites! TW: animal death
> 
> As you may notice, this is in third person. I've decided to rework the whole thing as it definitely fits Eliza's strong personality better and is easier to write :) The previous chapters are already updated and (hopefully) mistake free!

During the next few days Eliza was kept busy by Miss Grimshaw, tasking her to do various chores around the camp. She met the other members of the gang one by one, some she was introduced to, others had introduced themselves. The group was very diverse, but they all seemed to get along perfectly fine despite their differences. Never before had she seen racial equality, the difference between white and people of colour had always been made very clear to her, even by her mother. What she saw here, everyone having the same standing in their own little society, no matter their colour or gender… She liked it. This was the world she wanted to live in.   
She was scouring the plates of last night’s dinner, when Charles approached.  
  
“I’m heading out for some hunting, you got time to come with?  
  
As always, he was a man of few words, getting straight to the point. She liked that about him.  
  
“I-uh, need to ask Miss Grimshaw if I can come with you, could you wait a moment?”  
  
Eliza dropped brush and plate back into the barrel and hurried off, drying her hands on the apron around her waist. She heard Miss Grimshaw before she could see her, the old woman was arguing loudly with Karen, as so often. She waited a couple tents away until their shouting subsided, and Karen stormed off with a clearly audible “Fuck you, you sour old witch”, then Eliza approached, her heart beating in her throat. This wasn’t the mood she had hoped to find her in.  
  
“Miss Grimshaw?”, she cautiously approached her position, where she was smoking a cigarette and murmuring to herself. “Miss Grimshaw, I wondered if I could go hunting with Charles, he offered to teach me a few days ago? I-I’ll make sure to ask one of the other girls to finish with my chores, I’m sure they won’t mind!”  
  
Grimshaw was looking at her with a piercing stare, puffing her smoke all the while. Finally she sighed exasperatedly, and threw her hands into the air.  
  
“Sure, _fine_ , at least one of you will be of some use! Just try and don’t get yourself killed out there, would ya.”  
  
She waved her hand at Eliza, dismissing her. She hesitated.  
  
“Is there… is there any chance you’d know where I could get a pair of trousers – err, pants from? I fear I’d only ruin Tilly’s dress out there…” Eliza could feel herself shrink under her pressing glance and fidgeted nervously.  
  
“Hm.. Sadie might have something that could fit you. Might be a bit too long, but she’s the only lady here wearing _pants_ ”, she scoffed, disapprovingly.  
  
Sadie? But before Eliza could ask her, the woman was marching off across the camp. Unsure whether she should follow her or not, she trailed her in small steps, until she reached one of the smaller tents where the woman just had dug up a pair of brown breeches out of a sturdy wooden chest, studying them carefully.   
  
“Here girl, try these. There’s some shirts in there too, should be easy to find something that fits.”  
Grimshaw pulled herself up and stretched out her back, hands on her hips and her face lifted up into the sky.   
  
“Now go and get us some food, will you. I’ll make sure the chores are done, girls are bein’ too lazy anyway.”  
  
She headed off, surely on the hunt for another unfortunate soul to take over her chores.

___

A short while later Eliza was descending the hill with Charles, who led his spotted Appaloosa by the reins. He had decided to follow the river, so they’d be back before sundown. Besides, she wasn’t too confident in her riding skills, so it wasn’t too far out of reach. The back of the horse was to be kept free for a nice, big kill after all, and she wouldn’t be able to backseat ride like she had done with Morgan.  
The two of them reached the river and she recognised the spot where the girls had taken her for a bath in that terrible night. Eliza pinched the trousers, they were a bit tight around her hips and definitely too long for her legs, but they were much more practical for a hunting mission than a dress would have been. Charles had just nodded at her explanation, as if seeing a woman in trousers wouldn’t be anything new to him. She had picked out a faded blue shirt and some suspenders from the chest, and even though this masculine attire made her feel self conscious and strange, she could see the many advantages it had.  
  
What Grimshaw said earlier still played at the back of her mind. Curiosity got the better of her, and she broke the silence. “So Charles… Miss Grimshaw mentioned these clothes belong to a Sadie. That isn’t… Sadie _Adler_ , is it?”  
  
Charles grunted in response, looking at her in surprise. “Yeah, that’s her. How d’you know her?”  
  
“Sadie Adler? THE Sadie Adler?? The famous gunslinger woman, sometimes working with, sometimes against the law, with all those articles and books written about her? Outlaw and notorious do-gooder, saving women from harassing men, robbing the rich across the country? _That_ Sadie Adler?!”  
  
Charles seemed taken aback by the flood of enthusiastic words, his face turned to her and observing her speech with confusion in his eyes. He just nodded and grunted a “Yeah”, then set his eyes on the path again, following the river upstream, Eliza walking beside him, keeping further excitement to herself.  
She couldn’t believe it. Sadie Adler, the heroine of her last two years, and she was wearing her clothes. She had read every article, every book that had been written about the woman, and there was no shortage of either. She was known to be her own boss and going her own way, following her own code. Her husband had been killed by a group of dangerous men, the O’Driscolls, before she got rescued and was now running with – Of course. _That’s_ where Eliza had heard that name before, she was running with the Van der Linde gang. She couldn’t believe she didn’t remember sooner; she had read so many things about her and her gang’s doings. They were involved in major stagecoach robberies, shooting up entire towns and even robbing a bank in Rhodes. She shuddered. This bunch, killing folk? But they seemed so… nice. Well, not all of them, but most.   
Charles’ voice forced her to return her attention to the task at hand.  
  
“We’re gonna cross down here, we can hitch Taima under the bridge. Gives us cover to see if there’s any deer nearby.”  
  
He lead the way off the path, down a small ravine and tied his horse to the wreck of a wagon that must have fallen down here a while ago. It was rusted and half rotten, but Taima didn’t seem to be the bolting type anyway.  
The black haired man pulled a quiver of arrows and a bow from the saddle, and passed the latter to Eliza. She took it, not quite sure how she was supposed to hold it. Of course he’d be hunting with a bow, he was half indigenous after all and they didn’t seem too fond of rifles.  
  
“I’m gonna show you how to use the bow first. You ever held one?”  
  
She was sure he could tell by looking at her, but she shook her head anyway.  
  
“I saw some guards practising a few times though!”  
  
As if that would help. He asked her to hold the grip with her left hand, bringing it up and holding it out in front of her. Showing her where to put the fingers onto the drawstring, and how to angle it to the face to get the best aim.  
  
“Don’t overstretch your left arm so much, the string will hit it when you release.”  
  
When Eliza had her hold ready, he passed her an arrow. Nervously she took it and he watched her attentively whilst she was doing the same exercise again, only now she was looking down the arrow, aiming it’s tip towards a tree stump, about twenty yards away.  
He adjusted her arms slightly with gentle pushes, then nodded.   
  


“Breathe slow. Release on empty lungs.”  
  
She focused her mind and calmed her breath. In, out. In. Out. In. After the third exhale Eliza let go, following the arrow with her eyes as Charles had told her.   
  
It missed.  
  
Smiling, Charles passed her another arrow, and told her to try again. She spent about an hour of practising, all the while he watched her carefully, advising her technique. By now, most of her arrows hit where they were supposed to, and as she returned to him from gathering them up, he nodded approvingly.   
  
“You’re a natural. We should get ourselves some deer now.”  
  
Laughing, she shook her head. “A natural would have hit it the first time, surely! You’re a fine teacher.” He smiled at that but said nothing.  
  
She followed him down to the river, trying to keep her steps as light as possible. He had lent her a pair of his moccasin boots, but it turned out they were only as quiet as the person wearing them. Charles didn’t comment however, just quietly gestured her to follow, his back hunched.   
They followed the river further upstream for a while, until she could see a beautiful waterfall, and a small herd of whitetail deer grazing on the other side. He halted, signalling her to get down. She obeyed. There were five does and one buck, a gorgeous one at that.  
  
“Let’s see if we can get closer.”  
  
Charles put a finger in his mouth and raised it into the air, drawing a confused look from her. He noticed and explained. “That way you can tell what direction the wind is coming from. They’ll run if they smell you.”  
  
Eliza imitated him, wetting her forefinger and holding it up, her face lighting up with understanding as she could feel the soft breeze blowing up the river, the breeze that would carry their scent away from the deer.  
He nodded and carefully climbed up to the road nearby, the two followed it up the waterfall and crossed through the stream. They were now above the herd, and able to get a good look at them all. He studied them thoroughly, then pointed at the one to the left, closest to the water.  
  
“That’s your doe.”  
  
Eliza felt her nerves flutter in her stomach, on the prospect of her first kill. She sent a prayer to the heavens, terrified of missing her shot. She raised the bow.  
  
“Make sure you’re stable. Aim for the head or neck, heart is good too but more likely to get messy if you don’t hit, she’s gonna be in pain.”  
  
 _Way to calm me down_ , she thought to herself sarcastically, _no pressure at all_.  
She steadied her position, one knee on the ground. Like they had practised she raised the bow, nocking the arrow between her index and middle finger and drew. Forcing her mind to calm down, she bundled her attention along the arrow and towards the deer it was pointing at, breathing deeply. She aimed at its head, following the shifts and when it held its position, at a particularly tasty bushel of grass, she released. The arrow sirred through the air and hit its skull, the doe collapsing instantly. Eliza lowered her arms, shaking, but overcome with pride. Turning her head to Charles next to her, she found him with a wide smile on his lips, nodding approvingly.  
  
“Good shot! Let’s get her and head back to Taima.”  
  
The other deer had scattered, jumping away from where one of their own had found her death. Were they all part of the same family…? She pushed the rising feeling of guilt aside as they descended the hill, this was nature. Eat or get eaten, these were the rules. She wasn’t at home anymore, the meat nicely prepared on her plate, with no resemblance of what a beautiful creature it once had been. This was the raw, harsh reality of where food came from. It felt exhilarating.

She pulled the arrow out of its head, it was stuck more rigidly than she expected. Charles hoisted the deer up on his shoulder, and they climbed back up the hill, crossing the river again.   
  
“Should I… Can I help carry?”  
  
Charles shook his head. “It’s alright. Save your strength for the camp, your kill, you bring it to Pearson.”  
  
Eliza beamed. This was something she achieved herself, and was proud to have achieved. She’d show the whole camp how useful she’d be.  
  
“Thank you Charles, I really appreciate you teaching me.”  
  
His lips were curled into a smile, as he walked alongside her with heavy steps due to the extra weight on his shoulder.  
  
“Skill for skill, it’s only fair.”


	14. A New Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're finally setting the stage for some future mischief!

The way back to camp had been spent with little talk, every now and then Charles had pointed out different birds and animals to Eliza. He had asked her to pick some burdock root and bulrush from the shore, to make into some useful tinctures later. Eliza enjoyed the company of this man, his energy so peaceful and sensible.   
It didn’t take long to get back to the tents, where Charles helped her hoist the deer onto her shoulder and then tended to Taima, whilst the victorious hunter strode towards Pearson’s wagon, her chest filled with pride at the looks she got from all around when they noticed her and her trophy.  
With a heavy thud, she dropped the deer on top of the table in front of the cook.  
  
“Got you something Mr. Pearson!"  
  
She beamed at him as he stared at her, his mouth half open with surprise.  
  
“You shot that herself or you just passing off Charles’ work as your own?”  
  
“How dare you Mr. Pearson, I would never! He was kind enough to train me in the secret ways of the bow, and I merely applied it in practise.” A playful smile had replaced the pride on her face, she felt as if she would burst soon.  
  
“Well either that, or it was pure beginner’s luck. Good work, Miss Cornwall! I’ll make sure to use the pelt for something nice too.”  
  
Eliza laughed. “Or that! In any case, this should make a fine meal. Make sure not to burn it in the pot!”  
  
“Good work indeed Miss Eliza! We should have put your skills to good use instead of keeping you locked up and sheltered for so long!”  
  
Hosea had approached, a wide smile on his lips. He looked almost… Proud? His eyes scanned the carcass, nodding appreciatively.  
  
“Well shot my girl, it’s a shame Pearson will most likely botch the meat.” He cackled as the cook protested. “Come with me Miss, Dutch wants to see you.”  
  
Nervous, she followed him to Mr. van der Linde’s tent. He sat on the bed, Molly beside him, fingering his collar and showering him in her admiring looks. The girl was dumbstruck with love for him, and as much as Eliza understood how he could have that effect on a woman, she pitied her for the inevitable heartbreak this would cause surely.  
  
“Ah, Miss Cornwall! Thank you for finding the time for a little chat. Please, sit.”  
  
With a wide sweep of his arm, he gestured to the chair next to the bed. Hosea pulled an empty crate to the canvas wall opposite her and sat down himself. She was glad he didn’t leave; Dutch hadn’t spoken to her since they released her from her prison, and she was anxious to know what this would be about.   
  
“You’ve been making herself useful since you were allowed to leave your holding wagon I hear! I appreciate your eagerness to contribute very much Miss Cornwall. Especially as I’ve not got good news about our… _business venture_ with your father I’m afraid.”  
  
 _Holding wagon_? Eliza wanted to snort at that word but kept quiet. This wasn’t a conversation to lose her temper. The black haired man continued hesitantly, the next words appeared to be hard for him to say.  
  
“It seems I was… wrong.” He sighed, clenching his fists and getting up from the cot, Molly’s eyes still glued on him. “Mr. Cornwall has no intention of taking our offer, it’s been long enough now. I have to admit I was too sure he’d be eager to get his daughter back.”  
  
Yeah, right he was. She had told him so during their first conversation, but he had been dismissive of the incredulous idea that a father could be completely indifferent towards his daughter. Again, she bit her tongue and swallowed the _I told you so_ , whilst he was pacing up and down.  
  
“This leaves the question, what to do now. We need a new plan.”  
  
He halted in his steps, planting his eyes firmly on hers. In that moment Eliza felt incredibly small, shrinking under the intense stare of this man. Her eyes darted to Hosea for the fraction of a second, not sure if she was expected to answer, but he was just inspecting his fingernails and didn’t say a word.  
She shifted uncomfortably, the silence getting dragged out while Dutch seemed to calculate in his brain. Then Molly spoke up.  
  
“Can’t she just stay with us, Dutch? She don’t seem too happy going back to her da, and she seems willin’ enuff to help ‘round ‘ere!”  
  
Dutch didn’t avert his eyes from Eliza, she could almost hear the cogs in his head turning. Then, slowly, he nodded.  
  
“Yes… Yes. That could work. What do you say, Miss Cornwall? Would you like to join us?”  
  
The offer was there. She didn’t have to go back to her father, ever again. She could live with them, this group of misfits and outcasts, this group of… Outlaws. They were still criminals, with a price on their heads. But on the other hand, so was Sadie Adler, wasn’t she? And Eliza had idolised her for so long… The opportunity to meet her, _talk_ to her and get to know everything about her, the opportunity was just too good to pass up. Yeah, she would stay. If she changed her mind later, she was sure she could find a way to slip away. Her lips curled into a smile, as she nodded and gave her answer.  
  
“I think I say yes. Thank you Mr. van der Linde, I’ll make sure to work hard and earn my keep!”  
  
“Marvellous!”, Hosea exclaimed from his crate, “seems like we’ve got ourselves a new pair of capable hands to get up to all sorts of mischief around here. We’ll make a proper scoundrel of you yet!”   
  
He winked at her slyly, rubbing his palms together and making to get up.  
  
“Indeed. Miss Eliza, welcome to the Van der Linde Gang!”   
  
Dutch opened his arms wide, in a welcoming gesture. She got up, smiling, and did a little curtsy, half earnest, half joking.  
  
“Why thank you, Mr. van der Linde, how very kind of you.”  
  
The men laughed, and Molly chuckled behind her raised hand.  
  
“Call me Dutch. I may be the leader of our little group of delinquents, keeping them in check, but I do not see myself in a higher standing than anyone else around here. It will be good to have a new face around.”  
  
He nodded and sat back down on the bed allowing Molly to hold his hand. Eliza was dismissed.  
Hosea got to his feet and offered her his arm, still with that impish look in his eyes. She hooked her hand under, and he walked her out of the tent.   
  
“Now come Miss Eliza, let’s inform Susan of this fantastic news. It feels like we’ve got another orphan child that needs fostering, just like when we found Arthur and John! We’ll be taking good care of you, you’re family now.”  
  
She gave a laugh. “Orphan child? Mr. Matthews, you flatter me. Surely by now you’d memorized my age at a full six and twenty. I’m not quite the child anymore!”  
  
“Tomato tomato, once you’re old like me, you’ll see that everyone shy of fourty still seems like a child to you. In any case, I’m glad you took Dutch’s offer, even if only for the selfish reason of continuing our little book club!” He gave her a playful wink and she set on to protest but didn’t get to it.

  
“Did I hear right, you’re stayin’ with us?” Lenny, one of the youngest members, a dark skinned, energetic boy of about eighteen or nineteen, had overheard them and hurried to their side. “That’s wonderful news! I was afraid you’d be wanting to go back to your home!”  
  
The two of them had spoken a few times and gotten on quite well, but Eliza hadn’t realised he liked her that much. She gave him a warm smile.  
  
“My father’s house was never really my _home_. Besides, a passage on a ship to England costs more than what I’ve got to my name currently, which is… A whole lot of nothing!”   
  
The three of them laughed heartily. It felt good, to belong. They might be outlaws, but they were good people.


	15. A Lesson in Bravery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eliza is finally getting into some action!

The news of Eliza being the latest addition to the gang had spread quickly, by nightfall every single member currently present had come and congratulated her. Even Bill and Mr. Strauss had shown up, which she had been more than surprised about.  
Early on the next day she sat on the cliff, as close to the ledge as she dared, with the opened journal in her lap. She had been there since sunrise, not daring to draw the first stroke, simply taking in the beauty of this morning. For the first time in a long while, she felt like she belonged somewhere.  
She was so drawn in by the scene that the approaching footsteps went unnoticed.  
  
“I hear you’re gonna stay with us. You sure about this? We’re bad men.”  
  
Eliza jumped at the rough voice, her head shot around, causing her neck to spasm with sharp pain due to the force. Rubbing the sore spot with her hand, her gaze fell on Arthur Morgan walking towards her, he must have just returned from his latest venture somewhere out there. His mouth was pulled into a half smile.  
  
“You heard right! Mr. van der – I mean Dutch, he asked me yesterday if I wanted to fall in with the gang. I don’t really have anyplace else to go, so I figured might as well stay here. Besides, you lot are better than most men I know!”  
  
He exhaled sharply, half scoff, half chuckle. The pain in her neck was ebbing off, she rolled her head to stretch it out. Arthur had sat down next to her, his eyes looking somewhere onto the hills in the distance. He yawned, then took a deep breath, appreciating the cool morning air.  
  
“It’s gonna be good to have a new face ‘round here, been a while since we’ve taken in someone new. Last was Sadie, two years ago!” He cracked his neck, then gave her a quick glance. “I forget, you ain’t met her yet, right? She should be back soon, been on one of her private missions long enough now.”  
  
Eliza had a thousand questions burning on the tip of her tongue, eager to know more about the woman she had admired and looked up to for the last two years.  
  
“Is she often away for this long? What is she doing?”  
  
Arthur hummed, scratching his beard.  
  
“She likes doin’ her own thing, bein’ her own woman. Sometimes she’s gone for weeks, like now, and comes back with a fat stack of dollar bills, no one knows where she’s been and she ain’t explaining much. I’ve never asked much either, it’s her business. She contributes more than most, so Dutch’s happy.”  
  
He shrugged. She watched him for a moment, expecting more information, but he stayed silent.  
  
“So none of you know what she’s up to when she goes on her trips?”  
  
“Nah, she’s more capable than most and can take care of herself. I offered to go with her in the beginning, but she didn’t want me there so I stopped askin’.” He turned his eyes away from the landscape, studying her suspiciously. “Why do you wanna know anyway? You ain’t even met her yet.”  
  
Eliza avoided his glance, twirling the pen between her fingers.   
  
“Oh, just curious. I’ve read about her in an article is all.”  
  
His eyebrows shot up in surprise.  
  
“Article? Like in the newspaper or somethin’?”  
  
“Yeah, she’s… Well, she’s quite famous actually. Or infamous, I should say. Don’t you guys ever read newspapers?”  
  
He chuckled. “Half the gang can’t even read, Miss. What’ they say ‘bout her?”   
  
Eliza hadn’t thought of that. She considered for a moment, then replied “Well, she’s known for being a one woman show, robbing from the rich or other criminals, and saving other women from the men harassing them. Never in one place for long, but she’s believed to run with you guys… No one ever knows where she’ll be next, but there’s usually someone around wanting to write about a woman gunslinger.”  
  
He kept his eyes firmly on her as he followed her words. His lips curled into that half smile again.   
  
“So you’ve read about her in the papers. Sure sounds like more than just one article to me!”   
  
She gave him a sheepish look, smiling lightly. “Well… Reading about her always made me feel like my father didn’t matter that much. I dreamed about being like her, thought her life seemed so much better than mine.”  
  
“I don’t know about better, but she sure is a free woman, that much is clear!” He gave a scratchy laugh. “Hey, I have an idea. You wanna impress her, make sure she’ll like you?”  
  
She eyed him suspiciously, not sure where he was going with this. He looked at her, questioning.  
  
“I... I guess? I mean she’s gonna come back soon, right? I… What?”  
  
Eliza didn’t follow him. He just laughed and got up, pointing his chin back towards the camp.   
  
“Come on Miss Eliza, we’ll make a proper outlaw of you yet.”

  
___

Eliza waited by the horses, as instructed. Tugging lightly at her borrowed trousers, she nervously drew circles into the dirt with the tip of her boot. Charles had gifted her the pair she had worn on her hunting trip, and she was thankful to have some proper footwear, even if they were too big.  
What did Morgan have in mind? Impress Sadie, make an outlaw out of her how? She had no idea, but it made her uneasy. Besides, it looked like she was going to have to ride, which didn’t make things any better.   
  
“You ready? Go on, choose a horse out of them lot.”   
  
Morgan had arrived and was gesturing towards a group of horses without saddles on. She tugged at her trousers again, as she studied them one by one.   
  
“I-uh… I like the dapple grey one, the small one. Only thing is… You don’t happen to have an English saddle and bridle around?”  
  
He gave her a quizzical look, lightly tilting his head.  
  
“What you mean, English?”  
  
“It’s, err, smaller than a western saddle, lighter. And the reins aren’t as long. I’ve never ridden in the western style”, she ended, lowering her eyes to the ground her head as a wave of embarrassment rolled over her.  
  
“You sayin’ they _ride_ differently over there where you’re from?!” He shook his head. “You English are a strange people. We only got uh, what did you say? Western? Western saddles here, but they’re comfortable enough, you’ll see.”  
  
His eyes rested on the horse she had chosen, then he went and bridled up a brown mare with white socks, leading her towards her.  
  
“Bonnie here is better for now, she’s calm as anythin’. Could run into a wild grizzly and she won’t give a damn, would probably scare him off even.”  
  
He hoisted the heavy saddle onto her back, securing it with practised hands. Eliza watched him carefully, still not sure whether she’d be able to adapt this quickly to a new way of riding a horse. Her mother had taught her a little dressage and she had always enjoyed being on horseback, but it had been about a decade since she last sat on one and being thrown into the deep end like this wasn’t her idea of fun. She kept quiet though, not wanting to complain, or worse, be seen making excuses. He finished preparing the mare, then stepped aside and looked at her, prompting her to mount up. She walked towards the horse and took the reins into her hands, introducing herself. The stirrups hung lower than what she was used to, at least this meant she’d reach them without help. She scolded herself silently, pushing the worries away and trying to ignore her wildly beating heart. Holding the loose reins and grabbing the horn with her left hand and the back of the cantle with her right, she stepped her foot into the stirrup and pulled herself up, swinging her right leg over.  
Thankfully, Bonnie stood perfectly still, so she let the reins hang loose and settled into the seat, trying to get used to the unfamiliar feeling of that much padding and space in the saddle. It was very comfortable she had to admit, but would take some time to properly accustom herself to.  
Eliza reached down to the side, to adjust the length of the stirrups, when Morgan’s voice stopped her.  
  
“What are you doing?”  
  
“I’m shortening these? They’re too low down, my legs are almost hanging free!”  
  
He gave a chuckle, shaking his head again in amusement. She felt a little twang of frustration, he must think she was an incompetent fool.  
  
“They’re supposed to be like that, yer legs are perfectly fine. Trust me.”  
  
She sat up straight again, trying to hide her red face. She wanted to make a good impression; he was Dutch’s right hand man after all. On his whistle, Moonshine trotted towards him with a soft whinny, with one fluid motion he pulled himself intp the saddle. She stole a glance at his legs, trying to compare their position to hers and groaned internally, he was right of course. He gave her a questioning look, and she just nodded with grim determination. She _would_ make this work.  
  
“Let’s go.”  
  
He pushed the heavy mare into a walk, she followed. Bonnie responded well to the pressure of her legs, at least that wasn’t any different. When the camp had vanished behind a veil of greenery he spurned his horse to a trot and Eliza followed suit, pleasantly surprised how comfortably she could sit it out in this new saddle. Maybe this wasn’t so bad. She followed Morgan, one horse length between them.  
Morgan steered Moonshine onto a narrow path, following it for a while until they reached the end of the wood and crossed some train tracks, heading into an area with wide, rolling hills, lush with grass and flowers due to the time of the year. A herd of pronghorn took flight, finally disappearing behind a massive rock formation. She realised she still had no idea where they were, apart from the fact that this was New Hanover. She had never been to this state though, so that didn’t help much. For now, she contended herself just to follow the man leading the way through the lush green hills.  
  
After a while he turned away from the path, towards a slope to the right and came to a halt on the ridge on top of the hill. It provided a clear view of the valley and the roads below. Her nerves started to flutter with anticipation at the plan he had not yet disclosed to Eliza.  
  
“Alright, let’s hold up here. Come on, let’s get to the ledge where we got a good view.”  
  
He dismounted and kneeled down at the drop, she followed closely behind.  
  
“So… mind explaining what exactly we’re doing here Mr. Morgan?”  
  
“Told you, it’s Arthur”, he grumbled. “With some luck, we’re gonna find a wagon we can bring back to camp. Sadie’s overdue a tent improvement, she’s been sleepin’ under the same damn rags since she’s come to us. We’ll watch out for a covered one, saves us havin’ to steal some canvas too.”  
  
She stared at him, her mouth open.  
  
“We’re gonna – what?!” She squeaked. Forcing her voice back to a normal tone, the girl repeated the question.   
  
“You want me to s-steal a wagon? You do realise I’ve never stolen as much as an apple, right?”  
  
His eyes were sweeping the valley, and finally came to rest on her, contemplating her pleading expression.   
  
“Gotta start somewhere with bein’ an outlaw, right? Besides, you got me. I’ll be doin’ most of the work, you just gotta act out a little play. And don’t worry, we ain’t harmin’ no one”, he added, as the fear showed blank on her face.   
  
“Apart from taking their belongings”, she murmured quietly.   
  
He didn’t respond and returned his gaze to the roads below, silently speculating. She followed his example of observing the land downhill and tried to calm her breath. The roads were empty and the morning was crisp, it was going to be a pleasant day. Arthur shifted, looking at her intently.  
  
“Alright, I got a plan. You head down there to that crossing on the left, see it? The triangle in the road?” he pointed at the described area and she nodded, her throat tight. ”Yeah, there. You wait there until I give you a signal, Imma shoot an arrow onto the road the wagon is approaching from, in case you can’t see it yet.”  
  
Her eyes widened, but she nodded again.  
  
“Then, you wait until the wagon gets into view, and play out a little theatre.”  
  
“Theatre? Like what?”  
  
Arthur sighed, his face showing exasperation but also slight amusement.  
  
“Lost girl far away from home or her horse ran off or she don’t know who she is and how she got here, I don’t care. Just make sure you get on the wagon.”  
  
He reached to his hip and pulled out his revolver, emptied the bullets out of the cylinder and then offered it to her.   
  
“Then… You force them to stop. Gun to the head usually does the trick and you ain’t gonna have to _harm_ nobody.”  
  
His arm was outstretched, the revolver suspended between them. Eliza looked at him, incredulously. This wasn’t her idea of a good time, not even an alright time, but she didn’t really have any other options. Running with this gang, even just for a while, meant to be a criminal. She wondered if she shouldn’t just have attached herself to Grimshaw to tend to everyone’s homely needs in the camp. With a slight tremor in her hand, she reached for the grip of the gun. She couldn’t show weakness, not again. She would do this, _had_ to do this. The revolver was heavy, and made her arm drop a bit as she took it out of his hand.  
  
“You ever even _seen_ one of these before?”  
  
The doubting tone he asked this in hurt, but it was a painfully legitimate question. Being the daughter of one of the richest men in this country hadn’t provided her with much education in the ways of the raw world most people lived in. However, she didn’t exactly spend the first sixteen years of her life as the high born lady most people expected her to be by now.  
  
“I pulled the trigger, actually.”  
  
Arthurs eyebrows shot up, almost vanishing under his hat, he clearly didn’t expect that.  
  
“I-I mean that was years ago. Don’t remember much!”, she laughed nervously. “My uncle showed me how to use one of these, for emergencies he said.” She shrugged, and with a painful sigh let go of her pride. “I suppose I could do with some retraining.”  
  
Her eyes was exclusively focused on the colt in her hands, fumbling over the engravings. The feeling of being completely and utterly useless in this new world she had decided would be her own was overwhelming, and she started to have second thoughts. Who was she kidding, this wasn’t her! This was some version of herself she desperately wanted to be, but she neither had the skill nor the nerves it seemed. Morgan guessed her thoughts.  
  
“Chin up, girl. I can show you how to use it. Using a gun ain’t hard, if Charles is to be believed you’re a good shot with the bow and that’s much harder.”  
  
In the corner of her field of vision Eliza saw him lifting his arm, as if to pat her on the back, but he decided otherwise.  
  
“We can practise away from camp as well if you like, that way no one’s gonna watch ya. But for now, you won’t be actually _using_ it, so I’ll just show you how to hold it properly.”  
  
He drew his pistol that was stored in his off hand holster, and held it up, directing her to copy his position of the fingers. She did as he asked, and a few slight corrections later, he nodded, satisfied.  
  
“That way they won’t know you have no idea how to use this thing”, he chuckled. “Now, go ahead and get in position. Might be a while before the right wagon comes through, so get comfortable.”  
  
She could feel her heartbeat in her chest again, and her anxiety started to rise. With legs that felt like they were filled with lead she got up and made towards Bonnie, stuffing the revolver under her belt. She hoisted herself up onto the brown mare and glanced at Morgan, unable to supress the nervous expression on her face. He gave her an encouraging smile.  
  
“Don’t worry. First job’s always the worst, but I’ll be here makin’ sure nothing goes wrong!” He patted his rifle on his knees. “Now get down there and show them nerves of yours who’s boss!”  
  
Eliza jerked her head in what she hoped was an agreeing way, and kicked Bonnie to a trot, turning her around. Making her way downhill she tried to calm herself, the mare picked up on her fear and got nervous herself.   
_Don’t worry,_ he says. Sure, that’s exactly how that worked, she just decided that this wasn’t a biggie. There, done. No more shaking and no more doubts. Thanks, _Arthur_.  
As she arrived at the crossing, she dismounted and slapped her flat hand on Bonnie’s hind quarters, sending her off back up the hill. Eliza could just about make out Morgan, crouching on the cliff she just came from. He waved at her and she lifted a hand to greet back. She sat down by the side of the road with her legs crossed, cooking up a plan as to exactly what kind of damsel in distress she was going to portray.


	16. Innocence Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, not what you think ;)

The sun had risen to its highest point, and there was still no sign of the right wagon. A couple riders and a stage had passed her by, Eliza started to get restless again. The shaking had ebbed off over time and with a solid act in her head she felt a bit more secure. Still, this whole operation seemed incredibly risky to her, there were so many things that could go wrong. She tried not to think about it.   
Finally, the sound of a whistle was to be heard and a second after an arrow hit the ground a few feet to her right. Her heart started to pound hard against her ribs again, as she got up and in position, dishevelling her hair and leaning onto a rock close to the road. She could see a wagon approach in the distance and as it came down the hill she could make out that there was – thank God – only one driver at the front. Now with a bit of luck there wouldn’t be anyone sitting in the back either. She moved her gun from the front of her belt to behind her back and when the wagon got closer, she stumbled out into the middle of the road, her heart threatening to jump out of her throat, both arms waving in the air. It was showtime, for better or for worse.  
  
“Heeeey! Help, please”  
  
Eliza shouted on top of her lungs, hoping the high volume would cover the fear. The wagon was only a couple dozen yards away now, and the driver seemed to slow.  
  
“Please, Mister, help! I’ve been here for hours, please help me!”  
  
The wagon came to a standstill close to her, and she doubled over, her hands propped up on her thighs, seemingly out of breath.  
  
“What’s the matter, Miss?”  
  
He sounded suspicious, but who could blame him? This was a robbery after all. She looked up at him, putting on her best ‘I’m-so-innocent-and-lost’ expression.  
  
“I… I w-was on a hunting trip when m-me and my horse got attacked by some Bison, they almost ran us over! B-bonnie, she bucked me o-off and l-left me there, I don’t know where she’s gone, please Mister, help me!”  
  
Her nervousness only added to the desperation in her voice, making it sound at least halfway believable she hoped. She stood straight again, slowly walking towards the wagon.   
  
“P-please, if I could just hop on for a little stretch? D-do she know where the nearest station is? I could get a train home f-from there!”  
  
His expression changed from distrust to pity, and she silently let out a breath of relief. He believed her.  
  
“Nearest would be Valentine, but I just came from there. I could take you to Emerald station Miss?”  
  
“Oh please, if you wouldn’t mind! But I wouldn’t want to impose, it isn’t much out of your way, is it?”  
  
She gave him a beaming smile. He smiled back and she knew she had him. A twang of guilt tugged at her gut, but she ignored it. She could deal with that later.  
  
“You ain’t imposin’, it’s along the way actually. Gotta get up to Roanoke Ridge, just hop on and I’ll take ya there Miss.”  
  
He gestured to his side. He wanted her to ride shotgun with him… Not ideal, she would have had a much easier approach from the back of the wagon, but she couldn’t possibly ask for that without raising his suspicion again. Eliza widened her smile and approached him, careful not to turn sideways too far, hiding the revolver in the back. With some effort she pulled herself up and onto the wagon, carefully sitting diagonally so she was facing him and at the same time keeping the weapon concealed. Aware of the strange position she waned great interest in conversing with him.  
  
“Thank you ever so much, Mister…”  
  
“Evans. Tobias Evans, Miss.”  
  
“Susan Grimshaw. Lovely to make your acquaintance!”  
  
She held her hand out for him to shake. He accepted and then got the horses to move again. She gave her best not to show her growing unease.  
  
“Are you from there then, Mister Evans? Roanoke Ridge?”  
  
“No, I’m from Valentine. Just got to deliver some stuff to Annesburg, it’s a while away. You know these parts well, Miss Grimshaw?”  
  
They were approaching the ledge where Arthur was perched up, but she didn’t dare to turn and see if he was getting ready to move. She just had to _trust_ him.  
  
“Not particularly, my father and I was visiting Saint Denis, he had some urgent business matters to attend to and I was bored out of my mind, so I got a tip for some lovely bison hunting grounds. Always wanted to get myself one of their pelts! Turns out they’re not too keen on parting with them.”  
  
She hung her head in pretend shame, infusing her voice with a sad and disappointed tone. “After my horse ran off, I had no idea where I was or how to get to the nearest town, I was completely stranded until you came along! Thank you so much Mister, you saved me!”  
  
She could hear hoofbeats from behind and prayed that it was Morgan. Evans laughed.  
  
“You ain’t that far from civilisation on either side Miss, the only thing I saved you from is men less respectable than me. You’re mighty trustful getting on a wagon with a stranger, especially with your… attire.”  
  
He avoided looking down at her legs, but she knew he was talking about her breeches of course. The people at camp was so indifferent towards a woman in trousers, she forgot that most of the world wasn’t used to such a sight. His gaze was held firmly on the road, and she decided that if any, this was the moment.   
  
“No… I’m sorry Mister Evans, but you’re the one who’s too trustful here.”  
  
While she spoke, she reached for the gun. Pointing it at his head, she steadied it with her left hand to lessen the shaking, with not much success. Regardless, it had the effect she had hoped for.  
  
“I’m gonna need you to stop the wagon. Don’t try anything rash, I got my friend following us and he’s not quite as polite as I am I’m afraid.”  
  
“Y-you!” If the man’s eyes could get any bigger, they would pop out of his head. Fear was written on his face, fear and disbelief. “What in heavens name are you doin’, you ain-t -”   
  
She cut him off, her voice annoyingly shaky.  
  
“Stop the wagon, Evans. You won’t get hurt if you do as I say. _Please._ ”  
  
He still stalled, so she pressed the gun to his temple, trembling.  
  
“You ain’t gonna shoot me, you – You’re shaking! You don’t want this, please!”  
  
She shook her head, now looking at him with a pleading expression.  
  
“Maybe you’re right, maybe you’re wrong. But if you don’t stop now, my friend back there will make you. Trust me, _he_ hasn’t got any issues shooting folks.”  
  
He seemed to think about it for a moment, but then decided to believe her. The horses slowed down and came to a stop. The hoofbeats from behind got closer and fell from trot into walk, until Morgan came into view, his face covered by a bandana. He jumped off his horse in a surprisingly agile move and aimed his pistol straight at the drivers face.  
  
“Get off the wagon.” His tone was so casually conversational, it was frightening. “This is just a robbery, you don’t want to turn it into a murder, do ya.”  
  
Evans shot Eliza a last terrified look, then he followed his orders. She lowered the weapon in her hand and watched with a racing heart as Arthur tied the man’s hands and feet together and pushed him down into a sitting position next to the road.  
  
“Now we will take your wagon and drive off. Once we’re out of sight, count to a hundred and make your way to the goat farm behind that hill there and hope you’ll find some help. You ain’t ever telling no one about this, understood?”  
  
His hand was still resting on Evan’s shoulder, gripping tightly at the last words. The poor man couldn’t get his words out and after a few stuttering attempts just nodded, his head hung down in defeat. Eliza felt sick, a mixture between pride and disgust rumbling in her stomach.   
Morgan squeezed the shoulder hard a last time and mounted up into the driver’s seat. He pushed the horses into a canter, whistling Moonshine and Bonnie to follow. She sat beside him, the revolver on her lap, quietly trying to fight the urge to throw up. The alternating waves of triumphant joy and shattering regret were fighting in her chest. She had overcome her fears and achieved what she believed to be impossible, but at what cost? That man had lost his wagon and his delivery, and very likely his livelihood because of her. Because she wanted to impress Sadie Adler, a woman she’d never even met before and probably wouldn’t blink twice at stealing something as _trivial_ as a wagon. Arthur looked at her, scrutinising her expression.  
  
“You alright there?”   
  
His voice was quiet and soothing. He seemed to sense that something was wrong, but then again she wasn’t exactly jumping up and down with joy after this successful job.  
  
“I… Yeah… I mean no.” She shrugged and looked back at him, lost. “Is it always that bad? The guilt? I mean we’ve probably destroyed that man’s life, h-he will be fired, what if he has family? I shouldn’t have done… Ah I don’t know.”   
  
She threw her hands in the air, letting out a sound that was half laugh and half sob. He seemed concerned.  
  
“Hey, you did well back there. Don’t worry ‘bout him, wagon robbery ain’t that rare and he got off with his life, he’s better off than the O’Driscoll boys’ targets. Just stop… stop worrying, a’ight?”  
  
He patted her knee awkwardly, then returned his gaze to the road. There it was again, stop worrying. He clearly didn’t seem to have much of a conscience, or at least not when it came to threatening someone to take their lives just so someone in the camp had somewhere nicer to sleep. They sat in stiff silence for a while, as the wagon sped rattling along the dirt road. The horses galloped around a bend, and a farm came into full view to their left. Eliza stared at the big green barn, lost in thought. Arthur commented, trying to ease her tension.  
  
“That’s Emerald Ranch over there. Lovely people, got a fence too. Buys anything ya can’t sell elsewhere.” He gestured to the left of the farm and she saw another building a bit further off. “That’s Emerald Station, if ya ever need to get the train to somewhere ‘round here. Also good for a game of dominoes.”  
  
She couldn’t help but let out a dry chuckle at this. “Arthur Morgan, ruthless outlaw and criminal, enjoys the odd game of dominoes. Now that’s a way to introduce yourself.”  
  
He seemed relieved by her joke and was eager to join in, probably to try and avert her guilt. “Don’t you start! Eliza Cornwall, highborn daughter of Leviticus Cornwall, proper lady of high society, robbin’ wagons in her free time.”  
  
Now they both laughed. It helped to push her inner struggle away, she was thankful for it. Emerald Ranch was behind them now, and the road followed around the hillside to the right in another bend, and up to a ridge.  
  
“It gets better”, he said with a sigh, finally answering her question. “First few times are always the worst, you worry ‘bout them more than about yourself. But after so many times, ya prioritise the benefits over the damage caused, so she convince yourself it needed to be done.”  
  
Eliza turned her head at this surprisingly genuine statement, she hadn’t expected Morgan to show remorse at any of his crimes, thought it would be just… second nature to outlaws like him. He gave a bitter laugh at the bewildered look on her face.  
  
“Just because we live like this, don’t mean we _enjoy_ it. Well, not all of us. But we enjoy the stupid rules and laws of civilisation even less, so that leaves us little choice.” He shrugged.  
  
“Yeah… I suppose that makes sense. I just thought for some reason this was fun to you, I’m sorry.”   
  
She stared again at the revolver in her lap, her hand still gripping it tightly.  
  
“Apology accepted”, he sighed, watching her out of the corner of his eyes. “Although you ain’t got nothing to be sorry about, it was me who put you up to this, I see how you’d get that impression… Look out!”  
  
Yelling, he suddenly nudged her with his elbow as the wagon swerved dangerously around a tight bend, almost lifting off on two wheels and she had to hold on to the back of the seat to not fall off. She cried out in protest, and he laughed.  
  
“Livin’ dangerous can be kinda fun if you forget about the guilt!”  
  
He was still chuckling as she seated herself safely again, tucking the gun into her belt to avoid almost losing it again. She scowled at him.  
  
“Arthur Morgan, ruthless outlaw and criminal, enjoys the odd game of dominoes and likes to push highborn ladies off his wagon as a past time.”  
  
They both laughed, and drove back towards the camp, back _home_.


	17. Sadie Adler

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We finally meet the beloved Sadie! I love writing her, she's just such a loose cannon and doesn't take no shit!

A few days later Eliza woke up early in her cot to the sound of Karen and Miss Grimshaw fighting once more. Unable to fall back asleep with the high pitched screeching in her ear she slipped out of her blankets and got up, washing her face in the water barrel nearby. After Dutch had approved it, Hosea, the girls and Arthur helped she create her own little corner of the camp, a canopy attached to the wagon she and Arthur had brought home for Sadie. It was complete with a padded bedroll on a simple travel bunk, a chest for her belongings, a little stool she used as side table for the lamp Hosea insisted on her keeping, and the shelf Arthur attached to the side wagon, to store some books.  
It was much more luxurious than most shelters in the camp and she wasn’t sure if that was down to the general indifference of people to acquire anything more comfortable, or if Dutch assumed since she was a _high born lady,_ she shouldn’t be denied certain amenities of the life she was used to. He even offered she one of his lavish imported carpets that decorated his own tent, and she graciously declined. He had showed her too much attention and favouritism already, and the last thing she wanted was to upset the long standing members, also Molly.  
  
The cargo she and Arthur had stolen included all sorts, it looked to be a general store delivery with food, ammunition, clothes and tonics, and had been highly appreciated by everyone. Miss Grimshaw made sure Eliza had gone through the clothes first and picked out a few things for herself, before letting the others do the same; she was in dire need of expanding her wardrobe after all.

She tied her hair up and strolled to the cooking fire, pouring herself a coffee. The black, bitter stuff was quite different from the pleasantly sweetened and milky brew she was used to from home, but it had the same effect. Wandering to the edge of the cliff she took in the crisp morning air and admired the soft, vaguely pink light the rising sun was throwing onto the valley unfolding itself in front of her.   
Standing there for the length it took her to finish her coffee, she didn’t notice Dutch approaching until he stood right next to her. Eliza gave a nod in greeting.  
  
“Morning Dutch”  
  
“It’s a good Morning indeed Miss Eliza, if we can forget about being woken up by them two yelling women. What have I ever done to this world to warrant this punishment, pray tell me.”  
  
He sighed and lifted his hands to the sky, playing out his theatrics. She was used to this by now.  
  
“I wouldn’t know I’m afraid, I’d have to ask the same.” She took a sip at her cup, shooting the black haired man a quick glance, observing his perfectly groomed appearance. His cheeks were already cleanly shaven, and he was dressed as smart as ever. “Have they always been like that?”, she added.  
  
“No… Not always. Not from the very beginning at least. Miss Grimshaw has been with me since before… Well, she’s been with us a long time. Karen came to us a few years ago, a poor half starved girl that was much too young to be as drunk as she was. Now she’s just drunk, and I believe Miss Grimshaw sees a little too much of herself in her.”  
  
He let out a defeated sigh, lighting a cigar. Trying not to cough in the cloud of the fragrant smoke Eliza cleared her throat and sipped some more coffee. He wafted the smoke away, giving her an apologetic look.  
  
“Oh, I’m so sorry Miss, how incredibly careless of me.” He moved to her right, where the wind blew the cloud of smoke away from her. He took in a deep breath, closing his eyes as he exhaled. “This is truly a remarkable spot to set up camp, isn’t it. The river, the canyon, the trees… It’s all so peaceful, the perfect example of the American dream.”  
  
She just nodded and hummed in agreement. It was truly serene, now that the shouting of the two women had subsided. She only wished she could stand here alone, or with someone like Charles or Arthur, that didn’t have to hear himself talk continually. Her brow furrowed and her lips pursed, as she heard another set of footsteps approaching. Could she not _please_ get a moment of peace in this camp. Hosea’s voice turned her frown into a slight smile though.  
  
“Good morning Dutch, Miss Eliza! Mind if I join you two?”  
  
She turned her head to look at him, giving him an inviting nod. “Not at all Hosea! There’s plenty of room here.”   
  
Dutch welcomed him as well and Hosea stood to the other side of hers, holding his metal cup of steaming liquid awakeness, his gaze sweeping slowly over the hills that were now dipped in gold by the rising sun. The three stood there for a while in content silence, before a loud yell, accompanied by approaching hoofbeats made her roll her eyes again. She really couldn’t get a moment of peace here. They turned around and made to investigate the noise, Dutch already a step in front of Hosea and herself, marching in wide strides towards the hitching post, where someone was dismounting a big, strangely speckled reddish horse, disappearing behind it. As they got closer, the rider emerged at the back end of the curious mare, tipping the brim of their hat.  
  
“I’m back Dutch, and I brought you some _fine_ gifts! Had a couple leads down in New Austin, scorching there already I tell ya.”  
  
The voice was low and raspy, and Eliza’s jaw fell open as she realised that the rider was a woman. This must be _her._ She threw a saddlebag in front of Dutches feet, it landed with a heavy thump, indicating that it was filled to the brim. Eliza was stood a few steps behind the two men when the woman’s eyes fell on her, narrowing.  
  
“Seems like you lot brought in something _fine_ too while I was gone! Who’s that?”  
  
Dutch and Hosea looked at Eliza, the older man gesturing her to step forward. Dutch spoke as she forced her legs to move to join them, she was suddenly extremely nervous.  
  
“This is Miss Eliza. She’s… Well, it’s a long story. She’s with us now, our latest member.” He laid his hand on her shoulder and she resisted the urge of shaking it off. “She’s proven herself very useful, Miss Grimshaw likes her just as much as Pearson. She can sew and hunt, and even went on a successful little robbery mission with dear Arthur.”  
  
Sadie Adler didn’t look convinced, her eyes were wandering over the unfamiliar young woman in front of her, taking in every little detail. Hosea nodded and continued where Dutch left off.  
  
“Arthur and her got you a present during that mission, Miss Adler. I’m sure it will be to your liking!”  
  
Her glance shot to Hosea, now there was confusion on her face. “Present? Why in heavens would that stubborn mule of a man be gettin’ me a present?”  
  
“Just wait and see. Come with us.”  
  
As Dutch shouldered Sadie’s saddle bag, Hosea offered Eliza his arm and she hooked hers under. She was thankful for the support, with legs that felt like jelly she feared she’d trip any moment. Sadie Adler was here, she was aware of her, and was about to judge the wagon she got for her. Well, Arthur and her got for her. What if she was mad that Eliza’s little cot was attached to it? What if she didn’t like it, or worse, didn’t like _her_? She had so many questions for her heroine, she wouldn’t be able to bare her disapproval. Hosea stopped in front of the cart, smiling at the gunslinger woman walking past him.  
  
“This is it. We figured it’d be time for you to have something a little more comfortable than the ground.”  
  
She walked up to the back of the caravan and peered inside, taking in the interior that was transformed into a nice little home.  
  
“You got me this?”  
  
Her head turned and she looked directly at Eliza, holding her gaze firmly with her eyes. She shuffled her feet uncomfortably, _Christ_ this woman was intimidating. The hair on her neck was stood up as she nodded slowly. Then, releasing the tension suddenly, she laughed.  
  
“Well thanks! Looks mighty comfortable in there. What was your name again?”  
  
She came towards her, hand outstretched. Eliza took it, suddenly very aware of how sweaty her palms was, silently cursing herself for being such a nervous wreck.  
  
“Eliza Cornwall, Miss.”  
  
Her handshake froze, as Sadie’s eyes got wide and shot to Dutch. Eliza just realised they never mentioned her last name and a cold shiver went down her spine.   
  
“I – uh, my father and I we don’t really… Well, Miss, I’m happier here than back home”, she tried to explain in a hurry.   
  
Hosea came to her rescue. “Miss Eliza was supposed to help us to, eeh… _convince_ Mr. Cornwall of a deal we had in mind, but it didn’t quite go to plan. Her and her father don’t see eye to eye in a lot of things, and she’s decided she’d rather stay with us.”  
  
Sadie nodded slowly, her face showing more curiosity than the disdain Eliza had feared to discover there. “I’m sure she’ll tell me the story someday else. Now, if you would excuse me, I’ve slept on damned hard rock for weeks and this new home of mine is eager to meet me.” She threw her bag onto the wagon, giving them a wink. “Thanks for helpin’ Arthur gettin’ this darlin’. We’ll talk later, without them boys.”  
  
With nimble agility she swung herself onto the wagon and shut the draped canvas behind her. Only now Eliza’s nervousness started to subside a little. So this was the infamous Sadie Adler. The first impression of her certainly didn’t disappoint. She had always imagined her to be pretty in a rugged sort of way, in lack of any pictures other than the less-than-vague wanted posters, but she was more than pretty, she was _handsome._ To add to that, her presence still lingered. Hosea laid a hand on her upper back, leading her towards the cooking fire. Dutch shook his head and chuckled.  
  
“Always so elusive, that woman. I’ll be lucky to be able to have more than a fleeting conversation of a few words with her, simply impossible to string a full sentence together without her running off somewhere.”  
  
“Maybe she doesn’t appreciate your exchanges quite as much as you do, Dutch. She’s more the direct type if you ask me.” Hosea snickered softly.  
  
The old man patted Eliza on the shoulder, excusing himself. Dutch took his leave as well, she didn’t mind at all, and since the sun had now shown its face through the trees to the east, she decided it was time for her to catch up on some chores before Miss Grimshaw would descend on her. The woman didn’t seem to be in the best mood this morning, and she didn’t want to give her any reason as to let her frustrations out on her.   
Deep in thought about Sadie, Eliza tended to the dishes. She wanted to talk to her later, _she_ wanted to speak to _her_. Most likely she was just curious as to how Cornwall’s daughter came to be in the camp, but the fact that she was interested in even just the smallest part of her made her all giddy. Once all the plates and cups were clean – or as clean as she could get them – she headed to the chicken coop, that had to be relocated to make space for Sadie’s wagon. Miss Grimshaw approached her from the side as she picked up the feeding bucket, eyeing her closely as she threw handfuls of seeds towards the clucking birds. The matron made to collect the eggs out of the now empty pen.  
  
“Tell me something Miss Cornwall, why is it you’re a high born lady yet you ‘re the only one ‘round here that is willing to do some work.”  
  
Eliza flinched at the sound of her last name. “I- err – my mother raised me, we didn’t have much back in England. I’ve only really been a lady for about ten years, before that I was working on our little farm near York. We had enough to live, but it was hard work.”  
  
“York? Like New York? Strange what names the places over there have. Anyway, the other girls could take a page out of your book. Just don’t you go and do all their work for them!”  
  
She gave the older woman a half smile, nodding as she left with half a dozen eggs in her basket. Returning her attention to the chickens happily picking away at the seeds on the ground, she felt a drop of rain on her neck. The beautifully pink morning had turned grey, and she decided to take shelter under her tent leaning her back against the wood, very aware of Sadie Adler sleeping in the wagon behind her.

She picked one of Hosea’s books out of her shelf and started to read.


	18. The Hostage and the Widow

At some point in the afternoon, Arthur rode into camp. Drenched from whatever task he just had returned, he asked for permission to step under Eliza’s canopy, the rain hadn’t managed to wash away his overly polite manners. The two of them sat a few feet apart, watching the rain.  
He tipped his head towards the caravan behind them, keeping his voice low. “Heard Sadie’s back. She liked the wagon then?”  
  
Eliza answered in an equally quiet tone: “I really hope so, she’s sleeping right now. She didn’t say much, apart from that it seemed comfortable inside."  
  
Turning her head she looked at the wood, as if she could somehow see through into the interior. She thought she could hear faint snoring.  
  
“She don’t say much anyway, ain’t like the other women. I don’t even think she knows all their full names.” Arthur gave a raspy laugh, producing a pack of cigarettes and matches from his satchel. “Speaking of which, you seem to get along just fine with the girls?”  
  
She weighed her answer as he inhaled a deep lungful of smoke, holding the open packet out to her, with an amused expression as if to dare her to try it again. Eliza’s pride overruled her sense and she took one, lighting it up with the match he passed her. Puffing carefully to avoid another coughing fit, she answered.  
  
“I suppose so, they’re nice girls and have done a lot for me. Sometimes I wonder how they ended up here, especially Mary-Beth, she seems so innocent.”  
  
She looked at him questioningly, and he leaned his head back, trying to remember.   
  
“You know what, I have no idea how exactly Mary-Beth came to us. But as to her seeming innocent, so do you, don’t ya think? With all that upper class courtesy and that accent of yours.” His eyes were resting on hers, the back of his head still leaning against the wagon. The corner of his lips was slanted in a light smile. “Yet yer here, running with a notorious gang of low lives, sitting with one of the worst of ‘em in front of the fruits of your first thievin’ and a very unladylike smoke on the go.”  
  
She could feel the blood rising to her cheeks and in an attempt to hide it she shook her head and took another drag, trying to get used to the taste of burning tobacco and the scratching in her throat.  
  
“Innocent, yeah right.”  
  
The gruff outlaw just chuckled, and the two sat in silence for a little while, bar her occasional suppressed cough, watching the drops fall from the sky. He finished his cigarette and suddenly seemed to come to his senses.  
  
“Better go, Dutch said something about some of the boys needing help on a mission earlier. Let Sadie know I’m glad she’s back, will ya? See ya ‘round, Miss.”  
  
He got up and tipped his hat at her, and off he went, into the heavy rain. Eliza watched him, as he entered Dutch’s tent and disappeared out of her sight. He really was a curious man.  
  
“You know, he coulda just told me himself.”  
  
Startled, Eliza jumped up with a yell. Sadie’s face had appeared in a split of the canvas at her wagon, a grin on her face. She stared at her incredulously, her heart thumping.  
  
“Feel like joining me in here? It’s spacious enough for two and surely nicer in this weather than sittin’ on the mud down there.”  
  
Suddenly overcome with shyness Eliza could only nod, but didn’t move. She looked at the blonde woman, bewildered by her sudden appearance.   
  
“Well come on then girl, get your ass up here! The ground ain’t gonna get any dryer!”   
  
She tilted her head towards the caravan entrance, and her face vanished. Eliza forced her legs to move, and Sadie helped her climb up the wagon, pulling her weight up with a firm grip. Jesus that woman was _strong_.  
  
“There ya go. No need to be so coy round me girl. Eliza, was it?” She nodded, and she gestured for her to sit on a chair facing the bed where she sat down herself. “Here, get comfortable. This really is an improvement from my last cot.”  
  
Eliza took a seat, looking at the the woman expectantly. She returned her gaze, a mischievous glint in her eyes.  
  
“So, you and Morgan, eh?”  
  
Taken by surprise, she blinked at her. “W-we got this wagon together, yeah. Was his idea.” Her confusion only grew as Sadie laughed.  
  
“Mighty kind of ya both. He’s a stubborn one, but a good friend all in all.” Leaning to her bedside table, she produced a bottle of whiskey and took a swig, offering it to her. “Here, this will warm you up. You must be freezin’ in that skirt.”  
  
Eliza took the bottle and swallowed a mouthful of the burning liquor, leaving a smoky taste at the back of her throat. It wasn’t like the high calibre stuff she’d stolen out of her father’s bar from time to time, but it sure did warm her. Plus it was a nice to get the taste of burnt tobacco off her tongue.  
  
“So, ‘t was his idea? To get me this?” Sadie spread her arms, implying the meaning of her words. “Any idea why he suddenly is so intent on me havin’ a comfortable place to sleep ‘ere?”  
  
“No, I mean yeah… I mean he… well.”  
  
Eliza rang her hands uncomfortably, very aware of the heat in her burning cheeks. Sadie observed her silently, one eyebrow raised. Cards on the table, she decided, time to get a grip on her behaviour. She took a deep breath. “I read about you when I was back at my father’s home. There’s quite a few articles written about you, did you know? I always liked the way you just… did whatever you wanted. Helped folks that needed help and killed them who deserved it. Of course, I don’t know if much of it was true, but I kinda always looked up to you, it was nice to believe a woman could be so… free. Arthur found out and well, he must have thought it would make me feel better if… well, if you had a good reason to talk to me I suppose.”   
  
Eliza avoided her glance, knowing her face was still red as a tomato. Sadie hummed, taking another swig out of the bottle.  
  
“This sure is a good reason, he was right there”, she laughed, wiping her lips with her sleeve. “There’s… articles you say, about me? I ain’t never read the paper much these days, but that’s kinda flattering I s’pose. But I can promise you, this life ain’t as glorious and free as it seems.”   
  
As Eliza raised her head, her eyes met Sadie’s. She smiled, a kind smile. For the first time she realised that the woman wasn’t much older than herself. Even if her face was weathered and the air of experience surrounded her, she couldn’t have been older than thirty. Eliza felt silly, being so dumbstruck by her.  
  
“I know, but it was nice to dream. In a way, I hoped I could be like you one day”, she gave a laugh, “And now see where I am. Here, in your wagon that I helped steal. I’d have never imagined this to become reality.”  
  
“Well, ya better believe it, and quick. Thanks again for my new home, that’s mighty kind of ya.”  
  
She leaned back, taking another big mouthful of the bottle in her hand and passing it over again. Eliza copied her, stifling a cough as the burning liquor ran down her throat.   
  
“Now tell me, what’s a fine high society girl like yourself doin’ here with us lot?” She gestured towards the camp behind the canvas. “Surely you ain’t run off out your daddy’s home an’ joined a bunch of delinquents out of your own free will.”  
  
Eliza sighed and took another swallow. Not having eaten anything yet, she felt a slight hint of tipsiness already, but this conversation would be a whole lot easier to endure if she wasn’t sober.  
  
“No… I wanted to get away, but didn’t imagine my escape to be quite as involuntarily as this.” She stared down to her knees and could feel Sadie’s eyes on her. “Dutch, he got a few men to kidnap me out of my bed and carry me here, then I was held in that prison wagon. He wanted to blackmail my father, to get some money, but well… My father never liked me much.” She laughed joylessly, glancing up at the woman. She was still looking at her attentively, not making any move to interrupt the story.  
  
“I suppose I should start a while back, I grew up with my mum in England, she died when I was sixteen. My father ordered me to travel here to live with him, I’ve never seen him before. Since then, he’s tried to sell me off to some rich friends of his, but I wasn’t ever overly keen, so not much use to him… And his business ventures. He never talked to me much, mostly left me to my own devices, apart from those damned _etiquette lessions_.” She laughed bitterly. “If I have to bow down before a man eyeing up my bloody chest one more time, I’ll grab the nearest gun and shoot myself I think.”   
  
Sadie just chuckled, nodding in silent understanding, and handed her the bottle again, after setting it on her own lips.  
  
“Well, I spent the last ten years with him and learned to dance, eat the proper way, how to courtesy in front of them greasy suitors and _be a polite lady,_ until Dutch and the rest took me away from that. Then I was perched up in that wagon for a few weeks, making friends with Hosea and the girls, until Micah tried to… He tried to…” her voice trailed off, shaking. She felt tears raise to her eyes again and wiped them away, angrily. Sadie’s brows were now furrowed, and her eyes were resting on her, a glimmer of anger there.   
  
“He tried to what?”  
  
Eliza shook her head, rubbing her eyes again.  
  
“He tried to force himself on me.”  
  
“That son of a bitch, where is he?!” Sadie was suddenly on her feet, fists balled tightly, ready to go to fight him, she assumed. She just gave her a flat smile, shaking her head.  
  
“He’s not here anymore. Arthur got to him in time so he couldn’t do much and... well, he beat him and threw him out.”  
  
Sadie sat back down slowly, her breath heavy and eyes full of anger, it reminded her of Arthur’s look, after he’d punched Micah unconscious.  
  
“In the morning Dutch came back with him, but everyone knew what had happened, so he banished him… Since then I’m allowed to walk free and Dutch asked me to join the gang”, Eliza finished.  
  
Sadie was still breathing loudly, her fingers gripping the neck of the bottle tightly. “Dutch… Dutch _came back_ with that piece of shit?” she asked, her eyes narrowed.  
  
“Yeah, but it didn’t sound like Micah told him what he did. He was hesitant to let him go though.”   
  
“Suppose he’s afraid of some sort of revenge, that filthy rat ain’t one to be crossed lightly, that’s for sure. He ain’t been seen around here since?”  
  
Shaking her head, Eliza held her hand out for the bottle, taking another sip.  
  
“He better stay away. Arthur should’a killed that son of a bitch, he don’t deserve to be walkin’ ‘round free after all he did.”  
  
“Well, he saved me”, Eliza said flatly. “That’s more than what I was expecting to be honest. At that point I was still convinced them all are crooked murderers. Apart from Hosea and the girls, maybe”, she added quickly. Sadie laughed.  
  
“Well, you ain’t so wrong there, but they’re also decent folks, who do what’s necessary to survive.” She clapped one hand onto her shoulder and eyed her face carefully.  
  
“That his doin’?”, she gestured towards her cheek, “or do I have to have a serious talk with Grimshaw?”  
  
Eliza raised her hand to where Micah had slapped her, surprised. It didn’t hurt anymore, so she assumed any sign of it had gone.  
  
“M-Micah, yeah. He tried to make me cry.”  
  
“Did you?” Sadie’s voice was calm, almost nonchalant even, but there was something else Eliza couldn’t quite place. She shook her head.  
  
“No, I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.”  
  
The woman smiled with a curious expression she wasn’t able to read, was it… _pride_?  
  
“That’s right. Knew ye was a strong one. He ain’t gettin’ away with this, if I ever see him again… Well, let’s say he’ll think Arthur was mighty kind.” She got up, downing the rest of the bottle and throwing it out of the wagon where it shattered somewhere on the ground.  
  
Taking her offered hand, Eliza got to her feet and had to steady herself for a moment, she didn’t notice she had passed the point of being tipsy. Sadie laughed again, not unkind.  
  
“Let’s get ourselves some food now. Pearson! You better not gotten any worse at your cookin’!”, she shouted the last words out of the wagon, hopping down.  
  
Eliza followed her to the cooking pot, where Sadie passed her a plate of stew, Pearson grumbling over her taunting. She led them to the campfire, where Javier, Lenny and Bill sat, plopping herself onto a log and patting the space next to her, looking at the girl expectantly.   
  
“Come on, eat with us. They ain’t gonna bite you ‘s long as I’m with ya!”  
  
Eliza laughed nervously, the alcohol getting to her head and sat down next to her, hungrily tucking into her food. Javier played one of his tunes and from Dutch’s tent came voices, she thought she heard himself, Hosea and Arthur in serious conversation. The evening turned into nightfall, and she sat next to Sadie at the fire for a long while, engaged in conversation and jokes with various members of the camp, her nervousness gone thanks to the additional bottles that got shared around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for following this far! I'll be taking some time off uploading for this month, we've just come out of lockdown and work is incredibly crazy, leaving very little time for me to relax I'm afraid! Don't worry I'll be back soon, just gotta get through the pre-christmas rush :)


	19. Teaching Methods

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back! Thank you all for being patient :) Some more fresh content for you, uploading weekly again for now! Now let's get into some quality time with our favourite old man Hosea.

Eliza was doing her usual chores the next morning when Dutch bellowed three names to gather before him.   
  
“Arthur, Javier, Charles!”  
  
The men approached, and she tried to keep scrubbing the dishes as if she wasn’t desperately trying to eavesdrop. She hadn’t actually heard him giving out missions before, so this had her mighty curious.  
  
“You’ll go to finally get young Sean back to camp. Arthur, you know the plan. Trelawney will meet with you boys near Blackwater, he’s set up camp there. Javier and Charles, you follow Arthurs lead. And make sure to bring me Mr. MacGuire back unscathed!”  
  
Javier hummed and Arthur spoke, “We’ll try. Who knows what that little bastard got up to with them bounty hunters. Knowing him he’s gettin’ his head bashed in right now, for not keepin’ his mouth shut.”  
  
“I don’t care what he looks like, as long as he is alive and well, Arthur. Just bring that boy back, he’s been out there for long enough.”  
  
The group of men headed towards the horses, Dutch turning his back and getting back into his tent. Eliza couldn’t make out the conversation of the three heading off, their voices was kept low. Her eyes followed them as they mounted up, and met Arthurs, who gave her a nod. She waved them off as they headed out, vanishing between the trees.  
  
The sun was breaking through the clouds, throwing golden rays onto the forest, making the drops of rain that still hung on the leaves sparkle in fresh beauty. She finished scrubbing the dishes and stretched when she saw Sadie approach her, yawning unashamedly with her mouth wide open.  
  
“Mornin’ Miss, you sleep well? Hope I didn’t snore too loud.” She was looking at the cans on the kitchen wagon, carefully selecting two tins of peaches, throwing one to Eliza. She caught it instinctively, as Sadie gestured with her head to the table.  
  
“You got time for some breakfast? Or is Grimshaw hurrying you about as she does them poor girls.” She smiled. Eliza had the faint impression Sadie had decided to take her under her wing.  
  
As they both sat down Sadie cracked the tins open with her knife and handed her one, stabbing the blade through the sweet slices of fruit in her own can and eating them off the sharp edge. Eliza opted for a fork instead, thankful for the excuse to sit down. Her head swam a little, clearly a payoff for the alcohol last night. She noticed the blonde woman eying she up and returned her gaze, the question clearly written on her face. “What?”  
  
Sadie didn’t reply instantly, instead kept chewing and fishing for another slice in her can, her eyes not leaving her. Eventually, she spoke.  
  
“I still ain’t sure why you chose to stay with us. I mean I get why you don’t want to return to your daddy, but ain’t there anywhere else you could go? Highborn lady like you, surely you’d find somethin’ more comfortable and less dangerous than hiding with a bunch of robbers an’ murderers.” Her gaze became intense, interrogating even. Eliza shifted nervously, guessing what she was insinuating.  
  
“I… I won’t run away and tell on you, I promise. There’s really nowhere else for me to go, I don’t have enough money for a passage to England and even if I did, I’m not sure my relatives would have me.” She gave the woman a pleading look, hoping she believed her. “The girls, they… They’re my friends. I like it here, and I want to stay even if it means becoming a criminal myself!”   
  
Her eyes fell down to the peaches in the tin and her voice grew quiet.  
  
“I know I don’t look like much of a woman that can handle herself, but I wanna learn. Charles taught me how to hunt, and Arthur got me to steal a wagon, I’m sure I can be of use to the gang.”  
  
She fumbled with her fork, stabbing around in the thick sirup. Sadie’s kind tone made her look up. “Relax, girl, I’m just makin’ sure you ain’t chosen the wrong path. This life is ain’t a fairy tale, no matter what these articles you read told ya.” She smirked. “But it does have it’s perks, bein’ free and not giving a crap about the _rules of society_ is better than bein’ stuck in a fancy house somewhere, don’t ya think?”  
  
She bit on another slice of peach, taking it from the tip of her knive. Eliza nodded, relieved she understood.  
  
“Yeah! Wearing trousers for one, I could never have done that back home. Not even with my mum!” She blurted out with a laugh. Sadie joined in the laughter and agreed.  
  
Karen came up behind her, sitting herself down onto one of the free stools with a bowl of oatmeal in her hands. She was unusually quiet, only wishing the two a good morning. Sadie put a hand on her back, patting.  
  
“Don’t worry girl, they’ll get Sean back unharmed. He got a big mouth, and sometimes I wonder if there’s a brain behind it, but he’s strong. He ain’t gonna get himself killed by a bunch of bounty hunters.”   
  
Karen just stared into her bowl, as Eliza looked at her with poorly concealed curiosity. She hadn’t heard of Sean MacGuire until this morning and wondered what it was about. Sadie read her expression and explained, her hand soothingly gliding over the blonde girl’s back.  
  
“He’s been tryin’ to scout out a way to get the money back the gang lost in Blackwater some two years ago, but must have been taken. He was gone for about a month, before we heard the law got him, and now they’re out to get ‘im back.”  
  
Karen hit her fist on the table, making them jump. “Damn bastard ain’t even said goodbye ‘fore he left. He gets here alive, I’ll kill him my goddamn self.”   
  
Sadie gave a laugh and took her hand back, then drank the juice out of the can. “I’m sure the boys will make sure you get to keep your word.”  
  
Curious, Eliza looked at Karen. “Is he your brother?”   
  
The girl raised her head, looking at she as if she wasn’t sure whether her friend was joking of not. She decided the question was genuine and gave her a weak smile.  
  
“Ah I forgot I ain’t never mentioned him. Nah, he’s just… Well. I s’pose I care ‘bout him is all. Thought he’d run off until we got word he was captured. Stupid asshole, always gettin’ into trouble, needin’ other people to drag him out.”  
  
Sadie laughed again, and Eliza dedicated her attention again to her peaches, not sure of what to say. She had thought Karen was sweet on Morgan, the way she flaunted herself naked in front of him on the night of her bath, or at least wanted to bed him. Was she really this carefree, revealing herself to anyone?   
She decided it was Karen’s own business and finished the can of peaches herself. Mary-Beth and Tilly joined the table, joking about Miss Grimshaw and gossiping quietly about Dutch and Molly. Karen soon eased up and joined in, her voice back to the usual volume, laughing with them over indecent noises the girls apparently heard coming from Dutch’s tent in the night.

___

  
As Eliza left the table, about to head to Miss Grimshaw to see if there was any work to be done, Pearson approached her.  
  
“Miss Eliza! Have you got a moment?”   
  
She turned to him. “Sure, what is it Mr. Pearson?”  
  
He came over with quick steps, waving his hands towards the kitchen wagon. “We’re running low on meat and no one seems to bother getting me anything worthwhile to work with. Are you able to go out and get us another deer or something?”  
  
She smiled, happy for her newfound skills to be needed. “I’ll see if someone can accompany me, I’ve not been out by myself before!”  
  
He nodded, his forehead crinkling in thought. “Why don’t you ask Hosea? He used to go hunting himself, I’m sure he can pry himself away from Dutch for a while.”  
  
She agreed and turned her steps to Dutch’s tent instead, slowing when she stepped onto the wooden porch, dim voices sounding from inside.  
  
“Excuse me, Hosea? Are you in there?” She eyed around the half closed tent flap, not wanting to be rude just waltzing in. It only took a few seconds, and the old man stepped outside, arms wide.  
  
“Miss Eliza! What a wonderful surprise, how can I help you?”  
  
“I wondered if you could accompany me on a little hunting trip, Mr. Pearson fears we won’t have a proper dinner tomorrow if no one brings him anything today. And I’ve not been out of camp by myself, I don’t want to get lost”, she explained, timidly. Dutch showed up behind him, towering over him and looking down at her.  
  
“Go ahead and join her Hosea, we’re done here anyway. Good to see you taking initiative for the gang, Miss”, he added nodding at her, then waved his hand in a gesture of dismissal. Hosea stepped down from the wooden floor and beamed at the girl.  
  
“You better get changed into your pants Miss, I’ll go ahead and get us some equipment. I know where we can find some nice grazing ground for some pronghorns. Meet me at the horses when you’re done?”   
  
Eliza nodded, smiling back at him. “I won’t be long, thank you ever so much!”  
  
While she was hurrying off, she realised that she didn’t have her own bow, but Hosea knew that so she hoped he’s bring one for her. She quickly slipped into a pair of trousers, hiding behind the wagon, and chose Charles’ moccasins as footwear. Regardless of them being too big, they were the most comfortable to wear and would make the least sound. With her hair tied into a knot, she headed to the hitching post where Hosea was already waiting. He had saddled two horses and she slowed her steps. She hadn’t intended of riding out, still not feeling very confident with this new style. Her face must have shown her apprehension, and Hosea’s forehead wrinkled, looking at her concerned.  
  
“Everything alright? I thought you’d like to take a ride on Maggie, Lenny agreed you could borrow her for the time being.” He gestured to the shorter, light brown horse that stood next to a taller, silver one. Eliza nodded, realising it would probably be for the best to get over her fear of the chunky saddles and long reins, chances of finding English riding gear was likely very slim around these parts.  
  
“I’m just a bit nervous, I’ve only ridden on these saddles once before when Arthur took me out to get that wagon with him. The horses I used to ride back in England was all trained with the English gear”, she explained, expecting having to elaborate what she meant, but Hosea nodded, knowingly.  
  
“Ah, I see. Well, it’s easier this way round than to be trained Western, and having to get used to the other method, trust me!” He chuckled. “Here, just try it with Maggie.”  
  
He handed her the reins and she softly stroked the mare’s forehead, pushing the blonde mane out of her eyes. “Hello Maggie, good to meet you”, she whispered, before getting ready to mount up.   
  
“We’ll be heading towards the Heartlands, it’s not far and there’s always some game around on the hills. The only thing we’ll need to look out for is the train coming through every now and then.” Hosea sat on his horse already, smiling down at her.   
  
Eliza pulled herself onto Maggie’s back, resisting the urge to adjust her stirrups. Having her legs hang almost straight was a feeling she needed to get used to.  
  
She looked at the old man, eager to set off and leave her insecurities behind. “Let’s go then!”  
  


___

When they crossed the train tracks a short while later, she recognised the landscape around them. Arthur had taken her along this route, although he stayed on the path until further into the plane, somewhere behind the rock massifs that towered over the sweeping hills. Hosea led her away from the track into the hills to the right and slowed down, bringing his stallion to a stop soon after. Not far off she could see a mixed herd of deer and pronghorn wandering through the grass.   
  
“I reckon this is as close as we can get with the horses”, the old man said in a hushed voice, “Let’s get off here.”  
  
Following his example she dropped to the ground. He pulled a rifle from his saddle and held it out to her. Hesitantly, she took it.  
  
“Hosea… I never used one of these before. Charles showed me how to hunt with a bow.”   
  
Her lowered voice rang meek in her ears, once again she hated the weakness in it, reminding her that she was in a world she didn’t think she belonged to quite yet. Hosea seemed surprised, but only took the weapon back, checked the bullet chamber was fully loaded and then handed it back to her.  
  
“Set the butt of the grip onto your right shoulder and look down the scope, but keep your finger at the side of the trigger guard. It’s ready to shoot, so don’t press the trigger until you’ve got her target in sight!” He instructed in a whisper, unfazed at the helpless look in her eyes. “It’s got a bit of knockback, so make sure your face isn’t too close to the scope.”  
  
He was really just going to let her shoot a rifle for the first time, at a living animal? Suddenly Eliza could see more in him than just a sweet old man, she just caught a glimpse of a teacher, whose blunt methods weren’t hers to question.   
She swallowed heavily and nodded, crouching down and approaching a bush nearby, to provide some cover. Hosea stayed by the horses, she could feel his eyes on her back. She stopped and tested the direction of the wind like Charles taught her, and was satisfied with it blowing sideways, it wouldn’t alert the animals of her coming.   
Peering around the shrubs she didn’t really know what qualities she was looking for in picking one of the animals. She figured it didn’t matter too much, meat would be meat, besides Hosea never said anything specific. She chose a pronghorn buck, slightly bigger than the rest of its kind, that was standing a bit apart from the herd with its head held high and clearly on guard.   
As she took her position, one knee on the ground, she remembered something Arthur said. _A gun was much easier to use than a bow_. She prayed he was right, setting the wooden stock firmly onto her shoulder, her right index finger parallel to the weapon and peering through the scope with one eye shut. It took her a moment to reorientate and find the buck, now appearing much closer than before. She hadn’t noticed how unsteady her hands were with the bow, but now the crosshair was wobbling over its head where she pointed it at and she wondered how on earth she had managed to hit that doe with the arrow. Sure, the deer was closer, but she was inclined to agree with Pearson’s comment about beginner’s luck.  
Annoyed at herself she pushed these thoughts of doubt out of the way, trying to concentrate on the task at hand. Slowing her breathing, Eliza focused her energy along the rifle towards the animal like Charles had shown her with the arrow. The wobbling decreased, proving her nerves to be the main issue. Her finger curled to hover over the small bit of metal that would let the deadly bullet explode out of the rifle. She took a few long breaths, watching the animal flicking its ears, following the turn of its head. On empty lungs she pulled the trigger.  
With a deafening blow the bullet was forced towards the target, the knockback was stronger than she expected, forcing her to take her eye off the buck to regain her balance. As soon as she managed to steady herself she lowered the rifle, hastily scanning the animals that sped away before her eyes fell on the lifeless carcass of the buck she just shot. Shaking lightly, she rose to her feet, turning back to a beaming Hosea.  
  
“Well done, Miss! And that with a weapon you’ve not used before. Not bad, not bad at all!” He came towards her, pride and affection written all over his face. She could feel the sweat on her brow, the jolt of the knockback had made her nervous but she returned his smile, her chest swelling.

After handing him back the rifle she went to the buck, Hosea following behind her with the horses. It was a heavy animal and the old man had to help her lift it up to tie it onto Maggie’s back, both of them were groaning under its weight.   
  
“Charles made it look so easy”, Eliza muttered, trying to catch her breath. Hosea chuckled.  
  
“Charles Smith is heavier than the both of us combined, all packed full with muscle. Don’t take it to heart my dear.” He stretched his back, looking around. “Shall we try for another one?”  
  
She wasn’t sure, the force of the weapon had made she nervous. He guessed her thoughts and smirked. “You do the scouting this time, and I’ll shoot. Let’s see if my old hands are still of some use out here.”  
  
He mounted his horse and Eliza followed suit, scanning the area for movement from her elevated position. Shading her eyes with a hand, she made out some deer in the shade of one of the big rock formations further away and pointed Hosea in that direction.  
  
“Well spotted, my eyes wouldn’t have been able to pick that up!”  
  
They rode next to each other in silence, closing in on the animals. When they were still about a hundred yards away Hosea suddenly lifted the rifle, and with only a moment’s hesitation, pulled the trigger. One of the deer collapsed, while the rest dispersed hastily. She stared at the man; awe written on her face.  
  
“Y-you… That was incredible!”  
  
He nodded to himself, satisfied with the result. “Guess these old bones are still good for something after all, ey?” he looked at her and laughed at her expression. “Ten years ago I could have done that from twice the distance and in a quicker gait, but my eyes ain’t what they used to be.” Still chuckling, he stowed the rifle away at the side of his saddle. “Come on, let’s go get that one too, I’ll need your help lifting it onto Silver Dollar.”

___

The return back to camp had Eliza beaming with pride, cheeks flushed from her successful hunt and the old man’s praise. Pearson was in high spirits and already preparing the meat, humming a tune she didn’t recognise. The girls gathered around her, congratulating she on her talent and Lenny joined in, grinning from ear to ear.  
  
“One of these days you’ll have to take me out and show me how it’s done!” he exclaimed, patting her back in an congratulatory gesture. “Until then, Maggie’s yours to borrow.”   
  
Eliza thanked him and Hosea steered her toward Dutch’s tent where Sadie and the man himself sat outside, looking up at their approach.   
  
“Well done Miss Eliza, you just keep providing Pearson with meat and we won’t ever go hungry no more!”  
  
The leader of the gang looked at her, bowing his head in appreciation. She returned the gesture politely. “I’ll do my best Dutch, it’s nice to be useful.”  
  
“You should have seen her, handling the Springfield like she’s done nothing else all her life. She’s got a talent, this lady has.”  
  
Eliza could feel the heat rise to her face, blushing at Hosea’s praise. “You loaded it for me, I just pulled the trigger”, she mumbled. Sadie gave a short laugh, getting to her feet and throwing her arm around Eliza’s shoulders.   
  
“Take the compliment woman, you’ve done well. Come on, let’s get you a beer to celebrate until Pearson is ready with dinner.”


	20. Of Sheep and Wolves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A day late due to internet issues (I just moved and we still aren't connected, waiting to start a new playthrough because I need my silver Ardenneeeees), apologies! I really enjoyed writing this one, hope you enjoy!

Camp was quiet over the next couple days. With Javier gone there was no more guitar play, only the rare tunes of a banjo played by Uncle. He was an old, fat man, not unkind, but Eliza couldn’t really see why Dutch kept him around, lazing about all day. But then again so did the Reverend, and she had never questioned him either.  
Rising before everyone else had become somewhat of a habit to her, brewing the first pot of coffee and sitting by the drop, staring over the landscape. She enjoyed the peacefulness and solitude of the early mornings, filled with birdsong and often the bark of coyotes nearby. The canines had scared her at first, but after Arthur had lent her some binoculars to watch a pack at play, she decided they were more like dogs than wolves and grew to like them. He had sometimes sat with her in these early mornings, in quiet companionship, admiring the valley until Dutch or some other person called for him to send him off on some task. His company was much preferred to Dutch’s, Eliza wasn’t much of a talker this early in the day and that man could do her head in with his endless stream of words.  
This morning was no different, she sat cross legged with the hot brew in her hands taking in the scenery, the sun rising slowly behind her. She wondered how long the boys would be out. Hosea had mentioned it was only supposed to be a short mission, but what did she know about how much time ‘short’ typically meant. She surprised herself by realising she was worried. Not so much about Charles maybe, he was always good to her and of course she would be concerned about his safety, but about Arthur and Javier. Laughing quietly to herself, she supposed their good traits outweighed them kidnapping her.  
  
Turning at the sound of footsteps, she saw Tilly heading towards her, her hair dishevelled, rubbing the sleep out of her dark brown eyes.  
  
“Miss Grimshaw is up early today, she says we need some supplies from town. You comin’ with us?”  
  
Yawning, she stopped next to Eliza, peering down to the river. “I’ll never understand why you’re about so early, starin’ out there. The view’s really the same every day”, she said, a bored tone in her voice. Eliza chuckled.  
  
“Well, there’s different animals about every day, but I see your point.” She got to her feet, finishing the rest of her coffee. A trip to town got her excited, she hadn’t been there yet herself. “Valentine, is it? Let me just change into something fitting to present myself to the outside world.” She was only wearing a light cardigan over her night gown, while that wouldn’t draw any looks here in camp, she highly doubted that would be the same with strangers. “Are we riding there?”  
  
“Heavens, no! We’ll take the carriage, much easier to load up on supplies. Sadie’s comin’ too, she said she had some errands to run.”  
  
The two girls walked back into camp where they parted. Back at her cot Eliza chose a light blue skirt and a simple white shirt, looking decent but not too flamboyant. She had her fill of fancy clothes in her life and preferred the simple elegance. That was, when she wasn’t wearing trousers. Now that she had her own pair, scavenged out of the delivery Arthur and her had stolen, she had altered them to fit nicely. Growing ever more used to wearing them, she enjoyed the freedom they provided.  
She met up with the other girls at the wagon, missing Molly and Abigail as it was custom by now. Sadie had already been preparing the horses when Eliza changed into her town getup, and waved at her now as she approached. She had her repeater strapped to her back and a revolver on either side of her hips, carrying them with such casual ease, Eliza couldn’t help but admire it. Mary-Beth was talking to Miss Grimshaw and going through the list of items to get with her whilst Karen and Tilly sat on the back of the wagon, both looking equally tired and disgruntled at this early start of their day.  
Sadie checked in with the old woman, reassuring her she’d take good care of her girls before hopping onto the driver’s seat, patting the bench next to her and looking at Eliza invitingly.  
  
“You gonna join me up here or you wanna ride with the kids in the back?” She joked, ignoring Karen’s grumbled retort, and smiled wide as the younger woman lifted herself up to take the shotgun seat.  
  
The horses were trodding on the narrow path through the trees and Mary-Beth was going through the list in her hand again, organising who would get what. She was very practically inclined and Eliza liked the rational approach she had to her chores, always trying to be as efficient as possible.   
  
“I’ll head to the doctor’s office to get the medicinal supplies, Karen and Tilly, would you mind getting the general store items? We need a ton of food and one pair of hands ain’t gonna be enough to load it onto the wagon. Eliza, Miss Adler, could you head to the gunsmith to pick up the ammunition on here?” She had carefully torn the list into three pieces, handing them out to the respective groups. Eliza glanced at hers with a light frown. Sadie steered the horse to the left as she drove out of the woods under an arch formed by a collapsed tree.  
  
“Don’t you worry Mary-Beth, we’ll get you all of them things. Just make sure ya ain’t gonna get into trouble, I don’t want to cause a ruckus if I ain’t have to!” Sadie’s tone was cheery, but she shot a warning look over her shoulder. Eliza thought it was especially directed at Karen, but wasn’t sure. The blonde girl sneered.  
  
“Oh sure, we ain’t gonna _cause_ no trouble. Can’t promise trouble won’t _find_ us though, usually does.”  
  
Sadie gave an exasperated sigh. “Better hope it don’t this time”, she murmured, but didn’t press the matter any further.   
  
Soon the first buildings came into view and the putrid smell of cattle filled their noses. Sadie noticed Eliza half choking, and grinned. “Yeah, it smells like a field of flowers, don’t it! It’s a livestock town, ain’t gonna get any better as we get close.”  
  
She had slowed the horses down to a trot approaching the railroad by the station, and got them to a walk. Eliza was eyeing up the sheep perched in their pens, there must be at least a few dozen. There were people around, throwing the odd curious glance at their little troop, but apart from a few “Good mornin’”s, there wasn’t much reaction from the locals. It was all so exciting for her, after having spent the better part of the last few weeks amidst the same twenty people, barely leaving the clearing on the cliff. The wagon headed up a gentle slope between some wooden houses and turned left down the main street. It was early and there wasn’t much activity to be seen, but Eliza didn’t mind and stared at the buildings with wide eyes.   
Sadie halted the horses in front of the general store and dismounted from her seat. Eliza followed her but pulled her mouth into a grimace as her feet sank a good inch into the mud, dirtying her shoes and the hem of her skirt. The three girls in the wagon got up and clambered down, Tilly groaning about the bumpy ride.  
  
“Alright then ladies, let’s get this over with. We wanna make this quick so we don’t keep old Grimshaw waitin’”, Sadie announced. Karen and Tilly headed into the store, whilst Mary-Beth, Sadie and herself walked up the street where they came from, parting at the end. The two women entered the gunsmith to their right.  
  
The man behind the counter looked up from the rifle he was polishing, his eyebrows raised. “Can I help you ladies?” His eyes trailed down Sadie, lingering on the revolvers at her hip and on her trousers.  
  
“We’re here to get some cartridges”, Eliza said quickly, walking up to the counter and placing the list in front of him. Sadie wasn’t looking too impressed with his blatant staring, and she wanted to avoid an argument. “Could you get all of this for us?”  
  
His eyes fixated on her now, narrowing slightly. After a pause, he nodded. “Sure, just one moment.”  
  
He took the piece of paper and turned, carefully selecting cardboard boxes of bullets in various different sizes and shapes from the drawers in the closets. Eliza’s eyes fell on the big cat at the right end of the room, mounted motionless and looking very real. She shuddered. The man stacked up the boxes on the counter, doublechecking the list and nodding to himself.   
  
“Here, that’s all of them. Anything else she I can help you with today?” She began to shake her head, when Sadie spoke up.  
  
“Actually, there is somethin’. Have you got a revolver and gunbelt for my friend here? She needs somethin’ to protect herself.”  
  
Eliza’s eyes widened, she stared at Sadie in shock.  
  
“Sadie, I- I don’t have the money to pay for this!”  
  
The blonde met her eyes, and only shook her head, a corner of her lips lifted into a sly smile. “Take it as payback for my... Uuuh... Improved accommodations.”   
  
The store owner just looked between them, his eyes narrowing even further as Sadie winked at him. He sighed.  
  
“Of course, give me one moment. I might have something in the back.”  
  
He headed out of the room and Sadie pulled up a stack of dollar bills, looking over the interior. Eliza’s gaze still rested on her.  
  
“What?” She said, her smile widening, but she didn’t take her eyes off the rifles behind the counter.  
  
She tried to find the right words, wanting to explain that she never owned a gun and probably couldn’t even shoot it, but decided against it. It would mean she had to show weakness again. “I… Thanks, Sadie.” Eliza sighed, defeated.  
  
“My pleasure. Did ya see that big ugly cougar there in the corner?” She pointed at the cat she was looking at a moment ago. “Nasty beasts. Don’t know why anyone would wanna keep one of them lookin’ as if it’s gonna jump at ya.” She shook her head and Eliza giggled in agreement. The man reemerged from the back room, a dark leather belt and holster in one, a small revolver in the other hand.  
  
“I got a Smith & Wesson here, they’re small and easy to use. That any good?” He was looking at Eliza, and she looked at Sadie in turn.  
  
“As long as it’s shootin’ bullets, I don’t care what you give ‘er. We’ll take it.”  
  
The clerk was adding up the numbers on his abacus and Sadie counted the dollar bills, handing him the right amount. He nodded and packed up the items in newspaper. The two women took their leave, carrying the supplies out of his shop. They arrived at the wagon where Mary-Beth was just carefully stowing away the crate of tonics and tinctures she had gotten from the doctor’s office and smiled at them, as they approached.   
  
“I’ll go help Karen and Tilly, they’re almost done in there.”  
  
Sadie placed the ammunition on the wagon and stowed the wrapped means of self defence away safely. An idea sprung to Eliza’s mind.  
  
“Would it be too much to ask for some change? I’d like to buy a paper, a boy was selling them next to the gunsmith”, she remembered. Sadie turned, confused.   
  
“The paper? Hosea run out of books for you to read?” She shook her head in disbelief but handed her some coins anyway. “I’ll come with ya, makin’ sure no one ain’t up to no good ‘round you.”  
  
The two headed back up the road, Sadie hung back in front of the gunsmith, while Eliza purchased _The New Hanover Gazette_ , startling the poor boy with her polite conversation. She tucked it into a pocket of her skirt and was on her way back to join up with Sadie as one of the men on the porch next to her stood up and approached, slowly eyeing up the taller woman.  
  
“Oy, lady. Don’t I know you from somewhere?”  
  
Eliza froze in her spot. Sadie turned her head to look at the man that had spoken, and her hand twitched towards her hip. Her voice sounded casual, but it was different than usual, Eliza noted. “Pretty sure we ain’t met before.”  
  
Nervously, her eyes darted between Sadie and the dark haired man, he was scanning her face and attire with suspicion. He seemed to be with two friends, who now moved to stand next to him, observing her in their turn and nodding slowly to themselves.  
  
“Yeah, I know you. You’re that outlaw woman, from the posters!”  
  
 _Shit._  
  
Sadie laughed, seemingly unfazed. “Outlaw? I sure as hell would be stupid to wander ‘round town if I had a price on my head, don’t you think?” She turned sideways, only looking at Eliza for a split second, but the gesture of her hand she made whilst her eyes connected was clear as day. _Go_.  
She was unable to move however, as if her feet had grown roots, and watched Sadie with a thunderstruck expression as she started to walk away from the men, taking a first step down the road.  
  
“You ain’t foolin’ us woman! Now stay where you are and we ain’t gonna hurt ya!”  
  
The men moved quickly, ropes being pulled off their belts and one of them hovered his hand over his gun as they followed. It all seemed to happen so fast, but Eliza just stood and watched as if time was slowed down. The first foot of the bounty hunters dropped to the step below the porch. Sadie spun around, her blonde braid swinging behind her, suddenly wielding both revolvers in her hands, pointing them straight at the men in front of her. The few people on the street stopped what they were doing and looked onto this scene, eyes wide open.  
  
“You boys ain’t gonna hurt no one, least of all me. Now get lost ya dirty bastards”, Sadie snarled, her guns aimed without so much as a jitter at the three men.   
  
A second foot fell onto the stairs. Sadie pulled both triggers, snapping two of the guys heads backwards, making them collapse on the spot. Screaming ensued, and the people on the street scattered, and Eliza, finally ripped out of her stupor, threw herself beneath the gunsmith’s deck, peering over the wooden stairs at the scene with her heart pounding hard. Sadie and the single man left alive were stood at gunpoint, neither one willing to give in.  
  
“Give it up woman, whole town’s gonna be out in a bit, you ain’t getting out of this. Better lower your gun and come with me peacefully.”  
  
There were faces peering out of the windows all around them, he was right. How incredibly thoughtless this whole plan was, taking a wanted woman into a bustling town? Reminding herself that Sadie was the one that had come up with this, Eliza tried to make out the wagon with the rest of the girls. It was still stood at the same spot, but there was no sign of Karen, Tilly and Mary-Beth. They were probably hiding in the store, she prayed to the heavens no one would have noticed Sadie driving in with them, they’d all be in much bigger trouble as they already were.  
  
“Peacefully my ass, I ain’t gonna come with ya at all. I disposed of plenty guys just like you, thinkin’ I ain’t much of a threat just ‘cause I’m a woman.” Sadie started to back away, slowly. Her guns were both still pointed at the man’s head.  
  
“You think we’re alone? There’s more hunters here in town.”   
  
As if to prove his word, the door to the hotel further down the road was thrown open, and a handful of men spilled out onto the street, guns in their hands. Sadie muttered a bitter “Fuck” before she pulled the trigger and twirled around to face the group opposing her, before his body hit the ground. Eliza’s breath faltered when they opened fire, and Sadie dove into cover behind a wagon. The gunfire ceased and the men shouted out to her to come up with her hands raised.   
  
“You think you gonna get me this easy, you’re more stupid than you look!” She taunted, laughing.  
  
Was she _enjoying_ this? Her eyes flicked to Eliza’s spot and she could almost see the groan escaping Sadie as she saw her. It then occurred to her that this position was less than ideal, and the woman would feel responsible for her safety. Eliza let herself fall to the floor and crawled to the side of the house, out of the line of any stray bullets. Her heart pounded hard in her chest, the familiar sensation of anxiety spread through her limbs. The newspaper boy was cowering a few feet away from her, and she realised she was still clutching the newest issue of the _Gazette_ in her pocket.  
  
More doors slammed open and shouting reached her ear. The gunfire opened again, and there were more screams. Within it all, she thought she heard Sadie laughing. Wondering which one of them two had gone insane, she resisted the urge to peer around the corner, afraid of getting hit in the crossfire. The yelling got louder, bullets was hitting the fence at the top end of the street, and yes, that was Sadie’s rough, raspy voice, laughing between it all. She came into view in the corner of her eye, running towards a spooked horse that was tethered beside the sheriff’s office, just when the man himself came running out the door, star on his vest gleaming in the sunlight, with open breeches and wielding a gun.   
The gunslinger woman didn’t take any notice and jumped onto the back of the horse, momentarily shielded by the building, then her eyes locked onto Eliza. She flicked her head at her, gesturing to get going down the street. She shot up, just as Sadie started the horse into a full gallop, closing the distance between them in a second, her hand outstretched to reach down for her. Eliza took it, and she got swung onto the back of the horse, helped by the momentum. Sadie passed her one of her revolvers.  
  
“Cock the hammer and shoot, girl! Keep ‘em off us!” She yelled, and Eliza desperately tried to cling onto her, fumbling her thumb over the little metal piece to ready the revolver to shoot.   
  
Her hand shook and she clamped down on it, desperately trying not to let go, while the first gunshots were fired into her direction. Sadie sped past a barn, and she finally managed to click the hammer into place when the men came galloping around the corner towards them. She held out the gun in their direction, giving up trying to aim after a second of being shaken about, and shot. She missed and the bullet buried itself somewhere in the ground behind them. Cursing, Eliza cocked the hammer again, letting off another projectile in their direction. One of the pursuers cried out but she didn’t have the time to look who it was, in that moment Sadie yanked the horse around a tight corner and she had to grip onto her with both hands as the horses hooves risked to slip on the muddy ground. The train station whirled past in a blur and they made their way over a small hill, the ground dropping at the other side. Eliza’s stomach lurched at the sensation and Sadie crossed a couple paths, then took a left as the men came back into view. She lifted the gun again, firing another shot in their direction, and another. Two bullets left, but there was four of them, more would be very likely coming after them soon. The horse galloped in full speed along a cliff to their right, dangerously close to the drop.   
  
“Hold on!” Sadie shouted, not a moment too early. Eliza just about wrapped her arms tightly around her when they leaned into yet another sharp right bend, thundering down a steep slope towards the riverbed. A scream, like nothing she’d ever heard before sounded from behind them, turning her head slightly she saw the massive body of a horse struggling at the bottom of the cliff. That poor thing must have been pushed into the curve too early by its rider, she felt anger flaring up inside. The path was steady enough again to turn around, firing the last two rounds, aiming more carefully now. At least one of them had hit, the rider dropping out of his saddle, before Sadie swung around herself with her repeater propped against her shoulder, and with three quick shots, she took care of the rest of them. They rode in the same hard pace until the river came in sight, crossing right over it and only slowing down when the horse struggled up a small hill covered in pines at the other side, breath going heavily. They crossed another road and the woman halted the stallion next to a wall of heavy boulders. Eliza slid off, almost falling to the ground, her legs shaking. On her hands and knees she wretched and spilled the coffee she had earlier onto the gravel beneath her. Sadie dismounted and crouched down next to the girl, her eyes scanning through the young trees surrounding them.  
  
“I don’t think there are more followin’ right now”, she hushed, her voice quiet. “You alright?”  
  
Wiping her mouth with the sleeve of her shirt, Eliza raised her chest until she sat upright, her hind resting on her heels. “B-been better”, she managed, hoarse. Her stomach was still writhing, threatening to force more liquid out of her gut. Shaking all over she stared at the woman next to her who was patting her shoulder with such a sympathetic look, it bordered on pity.  
  
“What in the world was that?”  
  
“Ya survived your first chase”, the blonde woman laughed, “Congratulations. It get’s easier as you do more of ‘em.”  
  
“Don’t think I’m too keen on repeating that experience, thank you”, she mumbled weakly, shaking her head. “We could have been killed! I could have killed someone! That poor horse, it-it…” Her voice broke and faltered.  
  
Sadie looked at her, considering for a moment, her eyes stern. “This is the life I chose, and so did you. It ain’t all sugarplum fairies and rainbows ya know. I told you, remember?” She sighed, straightening up to scan the river. “If you’re not up for it, ya better leave ‘fore it’s too late.”  
  
Her words stung. Eliza knew she wasn’t as hard as the rest of them, and the feeling of being useless spread itself again inside her. Sadie was right, what was she doing? Playing at being a gunslinger, not even knowing how to shoot a gun proper? The gang was dangerous, living a dangerous life and for the first time she had experienced the harsh reality herself today.   
  
“I hope the rest of them girls are alright”, Sadie murmured, “Grimshaw’s gonna bite my head off for this.”   
  
She sighed. “Come on, don’t look like there’s more of ‘em that made it this far. Let’s head back to camp.”  
  
Offering her a hand she looked at the younger girl, expectantly. Eliza grabbed her forearm and let her help pulling her to her feet. Patting down her skirt, she tried to take a few deep breaths to calm her nerves. Sadie sat up into the saddle again and helped her swing up behind her. The skirt rose up her lower thighs, but she couldn’t care less about being decent right now, she didn’t trust herself sitting sideways being as shaky as she was.  
  
“We’re gonna stay on this side of the river for a bit, just in case. Keep your eyes out.” Sadie kicked the horse into a slow walk and followed the road down river. The trees opened up after a short while, and she pointed up a cliff on the opposite side of the valley.   
  
“We ain’t far from Horseshoe, see the smoke up there, above that cliff? That’s where you’re sittin’ every mornin’.” Eliza followed her outstretched arm with her eyes and hummed in recognition. Apart from a thin trail of smoke, nothing would have given away that there was an outlaw group hiding up there. Her insides twisted at the thought of that. _Outlaws_.   
  
“S-Sadie, I… I’m sorry.”   
  
The blonde woman turned her head and she could feel her eyes on her, but kept her gaze down, staring at the back of the saddle.  
  
“I know I’m not much use, and I can’t even keep my head in a chase like we had. I’m just a… A liability.”  
  
“Stop, you ain’t that. You think I didn’t throw up after getting’ shot at the first time? Only difference was I couldn’t shoot back, the fellers did it for me!”, she exhaled in amusement. “You took that gun and emptied six rounds into them sons of bitches, I say ya did well.”  
  
Murmuring about not having another choice Eliza lifted her head a bit, the praise didn’t cut through the self-disdain entirely, but it made it sting less. Sadie returned her head to face the road and chuckled.  
  
“I know you must be feelin’ mighty shaky right now. Trust me, it gets better.”  
  
Eliza gave a huff, half laugh, half sob. “That’s what Arthur told me, when we robbed that wagon. Not so sure about that.”  
  
“Well, are you lookin’ at it every day when she go to sleep, thinkin’ how you shouldn’t have done it?”  
  
This question startled her. She hadn’t thought twice about that, not after it had been made into her own sleeping space. Did she really have that little of a conscience? Sadie laughed at her silence, guessing what was going on in her mind.  
  
“See, it does get better. Gettin’ shot at and shootin’ back will too.”  
  
  



	21. Death by Proclamation

Eliza was relieved to see the rest of the group had made it back unscathed, just ahead of them and thankfully with the wagon and all their supplies. Their reunion was interrupted by Miss Grimshaw marching in, accusing Sadie of being reckless and putting her girls in unnecessary danger. Their argument looked a lot like a mother bear fighting a cougar and Eliza slunk away with the three girls, not particularly eager to get into another battle today. The way the two women shouted at each other, she thought she preferred bullets whizzing around her.  
After a quick recount of the events from when they got split up with Mary-Beth, Karen and Tilly, Dutch showed up with Hosea close behind him.  
  
“Trouble in town? I hope everyone is safe and sound?”  
  
The four looked up, nodding.  
  
“Some darned bounty hunter recognised Miss Adler, thankfully we already had all we needed and was hidin’ in the store! Eliza weren’t so lucky, got dragged into the fight, we thought they was gonna gun down the whole town”, Tilly explained. “Well, we headed back after them when the coast was clear, I’m just glad no one knew they was with us.”  
  
Karen and Mary-Beth nodded. Dutch turned to Eliza, concern in his eyes as he was considering her carefully.  
  
“Are you feeling alright, Miss Eliza? This must have been quite the shock for you.”  
  
His voice was so soothing she almost got completely lulled in by it, forgetting all the troubles of the day. _Heavens_ , Molly didn’t seem quite so stupid to her in that moment, listening to him cooing like this after the adrenaline of a deadly shootout had pumped through her body would make any woman’s stomach flutter. She forced herself to return to reality, blinking up at him.  
  
“I’m fine, Sadie got me out of there. Just a bit shaken, that’s all.”  
  
The black haired man nodded and Hosea smiled at her, relieved. Now _this_ was a man whose emotions she could take for what they appeared as.  
  
“Indeed, shaken will be right. I’m glad, I was you might have changed your mind about staying with us after this terrible ordeal. You are a welcome addition to our little family, and I’m sure we all would be sad to see you go.”   
  
Dutch squeezed her shoulder for a short moment, then turned to head back to his tent where Molly stood at the entrance, squinting at them suspiciously. The pretty redhead was a problem for another time Eliza decided, it wasn’t even midday yet and she already wanted to go back to bed.  
Hosea went off and grabbed some tins from the kitchen wagon, placing them onto the table nearby. He beckoned her and the girls to have a seat and eat something after the stressful events of the morning. Her stomach growled at this and she was reminded that she hadn’t had any food yet. Maybe that was for the better, considering the chase had led her to throw up violently.  
She sat down beside the old kindly man, wordlessly picking away at some strawberries and wasn’t sure if she could stomach them _and_ the turmoil of this morning.  
Sadie plopped herself down at the table a short while later, sighing exhaustedly.  
  
“If I had the choice between gettin’ shot at by a bunch of ugly bastards and bein’ yelled at by that woman, I think I’d take the shootin’ any day.”  
  
Eliza laughed, having thought something similar not too long ago. Hosea chuckled.  
  
“She’s a frightful woman, but that’s one of her best qualities. No one is gonna come between her and her girls!”  
  
“Her slaves, more like”, added Karen, grumbling. She really didn’t take kindly being woken up that early. Tilly slapped her arm, laughing.  
  
“What would you know ‘bout slavery! Your parent’s ain’t been owned by some rich white folk! Really, sometimes I wonder if you ain’t never looked at me.”  
  
The whole table shared a hearty laugh, shaking off the agitation of the morning. When everyone turned their attention to the food again Sadie waved her hand in an expecting gesture at Eliza.  
  
“You ever gonna read that paper we almost died for then?”  
  
For a moment the girl didn’t know what she was talking about, then remembered why she had gone back past the gunsmith in the first place. With a small cry she pulled a heavily crinkled newspaper out of her dress, smoothing it out on the table. She scanned the front page, headlining a train robbery, something about some nonsense the President spouted, a murderer on the loose and about her father, expanding his reach to the Caribbean. She skimmed over the article, there was nothing new, only the same ruthless businessman he had always been. She moved on to the train robbery piece, headlining ‘who are the Scarlett Meadows Bandits?’, when Mary-Beth joined her, curiously following the same article. She broke out in a loud laugh.  
  
“Well, ain’t that a coincidence! I can tell ya a secret, them name’s are Arthur, John and Charles!”  
  
Eliza turned to her, in disbelief. “They robbed a train?! B-but it says here there were casualties…” She stopped talking, everyone’s eyes were planted on her. She had spoken without thinking, _of course_ there would be casualties. Sadie didn’t just get chased out of town by half a dozen men for mere robbery. She wondered how high the price on each of their heads was and dropped her gaze back to the paper. “Sorry”, she mumbled, her voice meek.  
  
“Well”, Hosea stretched out, getting ready to leave, “You’ll get used to the thought of being surrounded by murderers and thieves, we all did. At least we’re not like the O’Driscolls, we try not to take innocent folk’s lives.”   
  
Eliza just nodded, humming her agreement. The thought of lawmen not being deemed as innocent people was strange to her, but in the end surely most of them had blood on their hands too? She had shot at men today, hitting at least two or three of them, and even if she didn’t take their lives she definitely wasn’t innocent herself anymore. The thought of this made her uneasy.   
Her eyes were fixed blankly on the paper, not taking in the lines they were following when Mary-Beth pulled it out of her hands.  
  
“Karen!” She hissed sharply, staring on something on the page with growing excitement. Karen looked up, her expression slightly irritated.  
“Karen, look!”, she handed the paper to the blonde girl, pointing at the article about the murderer. “It’s Sean! He’s alive, and he’s free! They got him out!”  
  
Karen’s face changed in a split second. She grabbed the paper and almost tore it out of Mary-Beth’s hand, searching eagerly for the story in question.  
  
 _“_ _Sean MacGuire_ _, a member of the notorious_ _Dutch van der Linde_ _’s gang,_ _has escaped from custody_ _. MacGuire was captured and in the process of being transported from_ _Blackwater_ _to a federal prison in the west. The Van der Linde’s gang was responsible for the_ _Blackwater boat robbery_ _in 1899 that left many dead.”,_ she cited the article aloud. _“…shootout was fierce… Upper Montana river… the escape is yet another example of the incompetence of police…_ They’ve done it, they got him!”  
  
She jumped up with a wide smile on her face and ran to tell everyone that would want to hear the news, dropping half the paper on the ground. Sadie leaned back in her chair fishing for it and threw it back on the table.  
  
“Well someone’s sure changed her tone”, she said, her eyes following the blonde. “ _Ain’t sweet on_ _him_ , sure.” She smirked.  
  
Tilly leaned in, keeping her voice low. “Why d’y’all think it’s taking them so long to get back here?”  
  
Sadie studied her, her forehead wrinkled with thought. “I ain’t sure… Probably ran into some trouble or other and had to lie low for a while. Blackwater’s still crawling with Pinkertons, we ain’t wanna lead them back to camp.”   
  
Eliza listened to their speculations and flipped through the rest of the pages. There wasn’t much of interest, until her eyes got caught by a little article, tucked away between advertisements past the middle of the paper. Her mouth dropped open in silent disbelief as she read, hot anger rising in her chest. Tears started to gather in her eyes, and she slammed the paper on the table, ignoring the sharp pain on the edges of her hands. The three women jerked up.  
  
“Eliza, what’s wrong?” Mary-Beth asked, confused.   
  
She stammered for a moment, before she could get the words out.   
  
“H-he… My… My bloody father, that’s what’s wrong!” she exclaimed, her voice shaking with indignation, pointing at the article that laid open on the table. Sadie took the paper and read aloud for the others to hear.  
  
 _“Tragic loss of oil baron’s daughter. Eliza Cornwall, 26, daughter of famous oil and businessman Leviticus Cornwall, has been killed at the hands of the van der Linde’s gang. Cornwall announced her kidnapping in early March, along with a letter of blackmail by the wanted criminal Dutch van der Linde. The widely known gang, also referred to as Dutch’s Boys, demanded five thousand dollars for her return. Despite the police’s best efforts, her whereabouts remained unknown. At the site of the exchange a gunfight broke out, killing her in the process. The Pinkerton Detective Agency is looking for the murderers, it is believed they are currently residing in southern Ambarino.”  
  
_ Sadie let a whistle through her teeth, putting the paper down. Her eyes were resting on Eliza. “So, he killed you then.”   
  
She was shaking from head to toe, hot tears of anger rolling down her cheeks.   
  
“How… How could he. How _dare_ he.” She clenched her hands into fists, staring at the cursed piece of paper. Mary-Beth was at her side, pulling her into a hug. She struggled at first, too worked up to care. She wanted to break something, _hurt_ someone. The girl didn’t let go, and slowly Eliza succumbed to her embrace, leaning her forehead against her shoulder.   
  
“I… I knew he didn’t care for me much, but this is just… I hate him. I’ll _kill_ him.”  
  
Mary-Beth gave her a pat on her shoulder, untangling herself and looking at her. “You don’t mean that.”  
  
“You better believe I do. He’s a disgusting human being, always only out for his own good. Lying and cheating, he doesn’t give a damn about anyone but himself! He destroyed my mum’s life and many others, and now he cut ties with me, telling everyone he _tried_ to get me back?!” Her voice echoed across the campsite, drawing everyone’s attention. “I’m gonna kill him, and if it’s the last bloody thing I do. FUCK.” The last word was yelled into the sky, it felt good to curse. Her father had abandoned her, finally discarded her after ten years. She laughed bitterly.  
  
“Come on now Miss Eliza, let’s sit you down.” Hosea had reappeared, holding her at the arms and guiding her towards her canopy. “Mr. Pearson, would you mind getting us some nice hot tea?” He gently pushed the desperately upset woman down into a seat on her bedroll, taking the lantern off the stool before he sat down on it himself, his hand still resting on her shoulder.  
  
“Hosea, I… I hate him.” She looked at him, pleading for understanding.  
  
“He’s an awful man”, he sighed, nodding. “I thought so before and now, well, now we know how he treats his own kin.” His eyes rested on her, filled with hurt. “We may be criminals, robbin’ and killin’ folk out there, but at least we do it with our own hands. Men like him, they…”  
  
“They pay others to do it for them”, she murmured, pulling her knees to her chest. “Yeah, I know he’s done that before. Keeps his hands and conscience clean, if he even has one.”  
  
Pearson hurried back with a cup of hot tea, holding it out to her. Sadie walked up behind him, sitting down on the cot beside her. Mary-Beth and Tilly were speaking to Karen and Miss Grimshaw, and they were headed in her direction too. Suddenly Eliza felt overwhelmed by all the support and consolation she was given here, causing the tears to flow again.   
  
“Now, now, Miss Cornwall, no need to cry. Your father is an atrocious man, and we’re all right here behind you. At least you ain’t ever gonna have to go back to him now.”   
  
Miss Grimshaw looked at her, with deep sympathy written across her face. She noticed the cup in the girl’s hands and produced a flask out of her apron's pocket, adding what could only be assumed was whiskey to the tea. “Now, drink up and get some rest. You girls are all excused from the chores today, I think the day has had plenty of excitement otherwise.”

  
___

A short nap, aided by the generous amount of alcohol added to her tea by Miss Grimshaw, proved to do wonders for Eliza’s mental state. Waking up in the late afternoon she felt settled and much less erratic. Her mood was still grim, full of dark thoughts about her father, but now her anger had a calculated energy to it. She _would_ pay him back, she just didn’t know yet _how_.  
Dutch came by as she was stood at the edge of camp, staring out into the valley and deep in thought of how she could make her father’s life hell.  
  
“I hope you don’t mind me joining you Miss, I couldn’t help but hear of your father’s appalling newspaper report. May I just say, we are more than happy to have you here in our midst and we do not ever abandon our own.” He stopped next to her, hooking one hand under his belt, in the other one of his cigars. As much as she didn’t trust him, to hear these words coming from the leader of this gang was comforting.  
  
“Thank you Dutch”, she replied, throwing him a quick glance. The low standing sun gave his features a golden glow. She let out a deep sigh. “It was just a bit much. He’s never been kind to me, but this… I guess it hit a nerve.” Shrugging, her eyes followed the slow flow of the river, as they had so often before.  
  
“It is more than understandable, Miss. What he did was… cruel.” Shaking his head, he took a draft of his cigar. “No man should ever betray his child like this.”   
  
He turned to her and placed one hand firmly on her shoulder, an earnest expression written on his face. “I promise you Eliza, I won’t let him hurt you any more. One day, we will make him pay.”  
  
The girl couldn’t help but stare at him, lost for words. She hadn’t expected him to support her in this way, and her mind flicked back to Molly and what she’d think if she saw her man in such close proximity to another woman. Slightly uncomfortable, she eased herself out of his grip. He let go, but not without a nod that was clearly meant to underline his sincerity.  
  
“Thank you Mr. – I mean Dutch, I really appreciate it. I… I should get back to camp, I wanted to see if I could help Mr. Pearson with dinner”, she lied and hurried off.  
He really was a strange man, so unreadable. Spending time alone in his company made her nervous, and that was the last thing she needed today.   
To not prove her falsehood, she headed towards the kitchen wagon where Pearson was kneeling, stirring the pot on the fire.  
  
“Can I help you Mr. Pearson? I wanted to thank you for the tea earlier.”  
  
The man looked up at her, a wide smile beneath his giant moustache. “Don’t worry dear, it’s pretty much ready. And ‘t was no bother, no bother at all.”  
He waved his hand in a dismissive gesture.  
  
Not quite knowing what to do with herself until dinner she steered towards the campfire. Uncle laid passed out under one of the tents opposite, Lenny and Tilly both shared a quiet conversation when she approached, smiling at her as she sat onto the log.   
  
“You alright? Been quite a day for ya”, Lenny asked. Eliza’s lips curled into a half smile, having someone that much younger enquire about her wellbeing in such an elderly-sibling manner amused her.   
  
“I’m okay, thank you Lenny.” She took a deep breath, stretching her back and closing her eyes for a moment, tilting her neck back. “How are you guys doing?”   
  
“Better than you I reckon. Karen’s all happy and ain’t touched a bottle yet, even Miss Grimshaw seems t’ be happy about the news of Sean. Lenny and I was just wonderin’ when they’ll be back.”  
  
“Don’t we all”, Eliza mumbled. The absence of some of the gang’s most capable members had grown heavy, and she started to truly miss Charles and Arthur. Until now she hadn’t wanted to admit it to herself, but their company had always filled her with a sense of calmness and security.  
  
The three of them sat there for a little while, Lenny shared a story of of him and Morgan getting mighty drunk in the Valentine saloon some while ago to pass the time until dinner. The laughter was soothing, gently washing over the hurt inside her.  
  
“And then – listen – then he’s runnin’ off into the alley next to the saloon an’ tryin’ to jump a fence, all while yellin’ ‘ _I’m an American’_! And what happens next? He’s landin’ face first in a steamin’ pile of shit!” All three of them were wiping tears out of their eyes, Lenny was wheezing hard, struggling to continue. “I got away, but Sheriff’s got him, tanked up as he was. Only saw him again the next day, came draggin’ back to camp like some rusty gut.”  
  
“He really wasn’t in a good mood, I remember! Barking at everyone to quiet down ‘cause he had a stinkin’ headache”, Tilly confirmed.  
  
Eliza’s stomach muscles were hurting and she was struggling for air, it was hard trying to imagine Arthur Morgan in such a state, near impossible. He always seemed in control of himself, a bit awkward at times maybe or ferocious in his anger, but loose? Never. Slowly the cramps in her abdomen eased off and she was able to sit up straight again, just in time for Pearson’s _“Dinner’s ready folks”_ call from the cooking fire.

Sadie waved from her wagon as the three of them were strolling over to the stew pot, still chuckling. Eliza grabbed her portion and followed Sadie’s invitation, seating herself next to her on the back of her wagon.  
  
“You alright? Sounds like yer day ain’t as bad now as it was”, she asked, not bothering to swallow her food before she spoke.  
  
“Yeah, thank you. I’m much better than earlier. That reminds me, I didn’t even thank you for getting me out of town safe… Well, I-err… Thanks Sadie.”   
  
Her cackling laugh was loud and drew a few confused glances. “Ya wouldn’t have been in danger if it wasn’t for me in the first place! But sure, you’re welcome. Sorry it gave you such a fright.”   
  
She smiled shily. Sadie was right of course, but she was thankful all the same. After all those articles about her, she should have known better than to presume that a trip into town with Sadie Adler would be a completely mundane, safe endeavour. Trouble followed her like a pack of wolves on the trail of a wounded animal, and it rarely ended in a drunken Can-Can for _her_.  
  
“Saw you runnin’ away from Dutch earlier, he botherin’ you?”  
  
The abrupt change of topic caused Eliza to almost choke on a piece of mushy carrot, she didn’t think anyone would have seen the short exchange she had had with him. Sadie slapped her back as she coughed and the girl could feel the colour raise to her cheeks.  
  
“I – I wasn’t running away from him, I just… Well, he wouldn’t be my first choice of company when I just want a bit of peace and quiet.”   
  
She _had_ been fleeing his presence of course, but that surely wouldn’t sit well with the rest of the gang. She chose to be in this family herself and didn’t want to give away the impression that she didn’t at least respect him as the head of it all. Sadie nodded, her expression utterly indifferent.  
  
“He sure likes to hear himself talk. I prefer my own company most days.”  
  
“So why are you putting up with me then?” Eliza tilted her head, curiously. Did the woman just feel obliged, after she did her the favour of upscaling her living quarters? Sadie hummed, seeming to be searching for the right words whilst scooping the last bite into her mouth.  
  
“Well, you’re prettier than Dutch for one”, she jested, “but I s’pose I put up with you like I put up with Morgan. You’re good company, and also got your head screwed on right.” Putting her empty bowl down, she caught her glance. “I bet not one of them girls would’ve shot at them fellers in town this mornin’ if they’d’ve been in your shoes. Well, Miss Jones maybe, but only because her head _ain’t_ screwed on right.”  
  
Eliza bristled at her judgemental tone when she spoke and felt the need to defend the blonde girl. “Karen is not that bad you know. She’s loud and a bit brash sometimes, but she’s a good person really.”  
  
“Oh I ain’t sayin’ she’s not, darlin’. She’s a damn good actress, seen it myself once or twice. She just ain’t exactly the type that can sit with ya in silence sometimes. Same with Dutch, right?”  
  
She gave an amused bark, pulling a bottle of whiskey out of thin air and offering it to her young friend after she took a sip herself. Eliza decided against it, becoming a drunkard wasn’t on her plan even if she would grow into a fully fletched outlaw.  
  
“Is that why you’re close with Arthur? Because he doesn’t talk much?”  
  
“Well, partly. He’s a decent feller, got a bright head on his shoulders when he decides to think for himself. He also ain’t never looked down on me ‘cause I’m a woman, can’t say that about most people. Even here.”   
  
She took another hearty swallow and Eliza pondered on her words. She had grown to like the man well enough herself, enough even to be worried about him being absent for so long, same as Charles. Only, Charles was easy to understand, straight forward and his personality was transparent as anything. Arthur? Well… He was a mystery to her. She didn’t know why he was humouring her presence in those early mornings at the cliff, or why he’d check up on her whenever their path crossed in camp. Did he feel like she needed protection after Micah’s attack? The thought of someone assuming a guardian role for her because they didn’t believe in her own ability to protect herself was humiliating, no matter how much she had yet to learn. It reminded her of the fact that she was in way over her head and made her feel like a child thrown into the ocean to learn how to swim.  
  
“Where the hell’s your filly run off to? You still with me girl?”  
  
Sadie’s voice brought her back to the present, and she quickly loosened the frown her face had pulled itself into.  
  
“Sorry, my thoughts went wandering there. Did you say something?”  
  
The blonde woman cocked an eyebrow at her, showing a half smile with an expression Eliza could not read. “Your head off with the horses there, hm? I just said Arthur reminds me of my Jakey, in some ways. He’s the best man I know.”  
  
Her gaze trailed off, staring at a point somewhere in the distance.   
  
“Do you miss him?”  
  
“Yeah… every day. But he wouldn’t approve of who I’m now I suppose.” She shrugged and let out a deep sigh. “He’d understand though. Life ain’t fair or just, but we gotta make the best out of the worst situations. We’re all just a bunch of stranded folk, tryin’ to survive.”  
  
After a moment’s hesitation Eliza put her hand on her arm, hoping to infuse the little gesture with as much empathy as she could. “I’m sorry about your husband”, she said quietly. Seeing Sadie so vulnerable was strange, she had been her hero for a long time and she wanted to comfort her. But she just shook her head and smiled at her.  
  
“Nothin’ to be sorry for, girl. You ain’t had it easy either, even before you got dragged into all this“ – she gestured towards the camp – “mess; and now your own daddy pronounced you dead.”  
  
Getting up, she stretched tall and gave a yawn. “Knowin’ there’s good people like Morgan surroundin’ you makes it a bit easier, hm?”  
  
Eliza followed her example and hopped off the wagon, picking up the empty bowls, a quiet laugh escaping her lips. “Seeing the good in people takes a while when they kidnapped you in the first place. But I suppose you’re right, Arthur doesn’t seem like a bad man.”   
  
“I sure hope they come back soon”, Sadie nodded as Eliza dropped the plates into the water barrel by the kitchen wagon. “Else I’ll have to ride out myself an’ make sure they’re alright. Been a while now even for them.”  
  
She tipped her imaginary hat at Hosea, that was walking past, getting ready to settle for the night. He gave them his warm smile and wished a goodnight. Sadie decided she needed some sleep too, giving her friend a gentle squeeze on the shoulder when she declared she’d stay awake a while longer. The gang was slowly tucking themselves away into their bedrolls and it got quiet. Without Javier’s guitar the campfire seemed only half as enjoyable in the night and most people preferred the quiet conversations with their tent partners, safe and warm.  
Having had a lengthy nap during the day, tiredness was some way away for Eliza still, so she strolled towards the cliff that had somewhat become her favourite spot to spend her spare time at. The night air was fresh, and the soft breeze made her shiver a little as she sat down behind a big rock, obscured from curious eyes. Her gaze once again followed the river, moonlight reflecting on its rippling surface. The little cluster of trees and bushes where she and the girls had washed down in that distressing night drew her attention, and her eyes lingered there.  
Sadie was right, he was a good man. And if the woman had reason to be worried about the boys being away for longer than anticipated, well… Eliza certainly didn’t need to feel guilty admitting she was worried about him too.


	22. Harmonica

Two days went by and there was still no word from the rescue mission. Lenny had been sent off with Bill Williamson and John Marston for something and they came back with a big grin on their faces, depositing their share in the camp lockbox proudly. Eliza had only once snuck a peek into the ledger, feeling bad not having been able to contribute more than a couple of animal carcasses for dinner. Everyone else was pulling their weight, she would have to find a way to make money soon.  
It was past midday, her chores for the day were done. The sun stood high in the sky, heating the air something fierce. This was without a doubt the hottest day of the year so far and she decided to go for a walk, to clear her mind. Since her self-admittance to the fact that she cared enough about Charles and Arthur to worry about them, she could barely think about anything else when she wasn’t occupied with some chore or conversation. Sadie had provided welcome distraction, recounting tales of robberies, rescues and other adventures involving her that Eliza had read about, but from her own perspective. Her accounts matched the base details well enough, but the real event was often less glamorous and much more gory. After hearing her describing how she shot, stabbed and choked her enemies to death, she was glad she didn’t have the woman as her enemy. She seemed to take pride in her work, leaving a mess wherever the bad guys had been holed up, and even though Eliza still admired her for her strength, she didn’t quite feel the same urge to become just like her anymore.   
This morning though Sadie had mounted her huge, mean looking mare and set off for the day, to scout out a homestead north of Valentine after Tilly had brought a tip back to camp. No gory stories today.  
She let Miss Grimshaw know she was heading out for a bit so no one would be worried, and set off down to the river, the gun Sadie had bought her tucked in it’s holster on her hip. She was briefly shown she how to load and use it, Sadie had promised a proper shooting lesson soon. Eliza dreaded it, but it was a necessary evil if she was ever to fit into this life properly.  
Descending the hill carefully on foot, she aimed towards the river, for a nice long walk. Soon she wished she had taken a hat with her, the sun was burning onto the crown of her head even before she reached the shore, but it was too late to turn back now. Trying to cool down she took off her shoes and stepped into the water, walking along the riverbank. The stream was nice and cold, providing a bit of relief. Her mind was wandering as she followed it upstream.  
It had been four days now since Dutch had sent the guys out to rescue MacGuire, an operation that should have been completed in a couple nights at most according to Hosea; she had overheard him and Dutch talking. During those last few days she had managed to draw Molly’s anger (Dutch still liked to join her at the drop and seemed to spurn Molly’s company in favour of Eliza’s), Uncle’s attention (the old drunk had never tried to touch her, but had offered plenty of compliments that made she skin crawl) and Strauss’ contempt (he wanted her to help him persuade a poor widow to take a loan and she refused out of sympathy for her), so she didn’t overly enjoy her time in camp at this time. Miss Grimshaw kept her and the girls busy, but Karen was still worried sick over Sean, so the four of them weren’t as carefree and chipper as usual either. 

A herd of deer skipped over the river as she watched them, her eyes lingering on the last doe that was struggling to catch up. The buck made sure to wait for her, only following the group when she was safely across. This made her smile.

Her mornings were still following the same routine as before, getting up early, making coffee and enjoying the sunrise at the drop. Only now she realised how much she missed Arthur’s company, especially when the only alternative at hand was Dutch. Morgan barely talked, just stood or sat with her either drinking his coffee, smoking a cigarette or sketching in his journal. He would sometimes comment on birds that were flying past or animals down in the valley, but unless she initiated the conversation he’d stay quiet, leaving them both to enjoy the peaceful morning. She missed his presence, easy and content by now after the initial awkwardness whenever the two were alone had gone. They had learned to appreciate each other’s silence.

Lost in thought, she was walking for a good hour when she saw the waterfall. Cumberland Falls Charles had called it, and told her about the little cavern behind. Realising how sweaty and gross she felt, an idea struck. It wouldn’t be like a proper bath, she didn’t have any soap for starters, but a quick wash would be lovely, and she wasn’t likely to be discovered behind the roaring masses of water.  
The path wound upwards to her right and she stayed close to the river, following the increasingly rocky shore beneath the cliffs. She had to climb over some tree trunks and boulders, winding her way through a couple bushes before she could see the fallen log that conveniently led up to the ledge behind the falls. Careful not to slip on the wet wood she made her way up and took a deep breath before she hopped through the heavy curtain of water. It wasn’t as violent as she expected, but she could feel the force behind it clearly, making her wonder what would happen if someone got trapped down below. The thought made her shudder.  
She reached the small outcrop Charles had spoken of and decided this would most definitely do well as her own little personal bathing space. She peeled out of the wet clothes, stripping down until she was completely naked and stepped towards the water, mindful of slippery spots beneath her bare feet. The cascade was cold and fresh and rinsing herself down felt incredible in this heat, just what she needed.  
When she decided she felt clean enough she soaked her clothes, trying to give them a quick wash too. Without soap they wouldn’t be perfect, but there was no harm in this. She laid out her skirt on the rocky floor and sat down on it, closing her eyes and enjoying the cool, fine spray that landed on her face like thick mist. This was much better than enduring the tense atmosphere back at Horseshoe, everything felt so far away and she could finally relax a little, letting the worries run off her like the droplets of cold water on her back. She would stay here for a while.

The completely soaked clothes were a nightmare to get back into, but she wasn’t about to emerge from the waterfall naked, not knowing who might happen to pass by and witness her in all her natural glory. They felt so heavy, climbing back out onto the shore was much more difficult than getting in and she made a mental note of taking a second set next time, or at least a gown she could cover herself with whilst hopping in and out. Because there would surely be a next time, the hidden cave had felt like a little piece of heaven to her.  
She found a patch of grass not far from the falls and laid herself out to dry in the sun, enjoying the warmth of the late afternoon. She wouldn’t dry off completely but didn’t mind. The soothing murmur of the river and the distant thunder of the cascading water lulled her into a slumber. 

_

When her eyes opened, it was dark. The stars were twinkling on the sky above her and the crescent of the moon illuminated the night gently. She felt a slight chill, her back was still wet from the water of course, she hadn’t intended to doze off and stay out so late. The people back at camp were probably wondering where she was, so she climbed up the slope to the path and set off.  
It took over an hour to get back and as she was approaching the camp she could hear music and laughter. A guitar. Eliza’s steps quickened in unison with her heartbeat, and as the forest drew back and she walked into camp, she could see the fires burning bright, people gathering and chattering joyously and there was Charles, sitting at the round table and to be the first to notice her. In a few big strides she closed the distance between them, he was barely stood up from his seat to greet her as she crashed into him, squeezing him into a tight hug. He staggered backwards for a moment, then caught himself and returned the embrace, chuckling.

“You’re wet”, he noted in his manner-of-fact tone, “did you go for a late night swim? I thought you might have left us, just going off and disappearing like that.”

She let go and looked up to him, a wide smile on her lips. “I was just out for a long walk and a bath. I thought you boys might have gone and died on us!”

She let her eyes sweep over the people in camp. Javier was sat at the camp fire with his guitar, a young man with ginger hair she had never seen before stood near him, giving a speech in a thick Irish accent; Sean MacGuire she presumed. The only person she couldn’t find was… Her heart dropped.

“Where’s Arthur?”, she asked Charles. Did he not make it back, was he - 

“Here he comes”, Charles nodded his head towards a spot behind her and she spun around.

There he was, rough and tired and with a few days worth of stubble on his cheeks, but there was a happy, relieved look in his eyes as he neared, Sadie walking beside him. Eliza’s body moved before she could gather coherent thought and she threw her arms around him as she had with Charles, pressing her head against his chest. Thank God he was safe.

“Huh- Hey there”, he muttered, slight confusion in his voice. He had tensed up at her touch but relaxed a bit now, patting her shoulders awkwardly. “Good to see you too, Miss.”

Glancing upwards at his face she suddenly feared she had overstepped a line and quickly withdrew her arms from him, stepping back. Already she could feel the blood rising to her cheeks and hoped it wouldn’t be obvious in the dark.

“I was so worried about you all! What happened?”

Arthur scratched his chin and pulled a grimace before he answered, “O’Driscolls. There was a whole lot of them, so we had to lie low. Seems they knew what we were planning, whole way back was covered with them dirty bastards and we had to hide for two days after one of ‘em saw us.”

“I would have just shot the whole lot. They all deserve it”, Sadie piped up. “Our little doe here got all frightened, thinking you was in trouble.” She had a slanted grin on her face and her eyes was fixed on Eliza with a look she wasn’t sure what to make of. Her cheeks burned even hotter, she must have gotten burnt by the sun, sleeping out in the open for so long.

“I’m just glad you’re back safe.” She beamed at the broad shouldered man, turning around to Charles. “All of you. That’s Sean I assume?”

She pointed to the Irish guy who was now stood with the girls, loudly and unashamedly courting Karen who played hard to get. And that after all her grumbling and worrying over him.

“That’s Sean alright”, Arthur confirmed, “Dutch called for a party soon as we got back.” 

He shot a look towards the big tent in the middle of the camp, where van der Linde stepped into the night at that exact moment.

“Come on. How about a song?” he shouted. Javier at the guitar started strumming the strings in a new melody and Uncle who sat next to him recognised it.

“The Louisville maid! Come on everybody, everyone knows this one!”

Charles and Arthur laughed and headed towards the fire, while Eliza stayed with Sadie, sitting down at the poker table. 

“In Louisville I met a maid,  
Mark well what I do say,   
And she was mistress of her trade,  
It was diddle-diddle-diddle all day!”

Javier and Uncle initiated the song, soon joined by Karen, Sean and Arthur. It wasn’t a particularly complicated tune, and no one seemed to always know the exact words, nevertheless it was the best bit of music Eliza had ever heard. Seeing those people being so happy and carefree was a welcome sight, one that filled her heart with warmth. Sadie and her watched silently, as the group grew bigger and left only a handful of people who didn’t join in the singing.

“I put my hand upon her ass,  
Mark well what I do say,  
She says ‘let’s lay down on the grass’,  
And diddle-diddle-diddle all day!”

“And we diddle-diddle-did too!”, Uncle shouted when the song ended and everybody laughed.

The crowd dispersed and she felt a hand on her shoulder, Tilly stood behind Eliza, handing over a bottle of beer. She accepted with thanks.

“I don’t understand why she ain’t telling him how much she likes him”, she sighed, looking at Karen and Sean. He was showering her in compliments in his Irish charm, and she played the stoic maid.

Eliza shrugged, setting the bottle to her lips. “Maybe she thinks he’ll stop paying attention to her if she gives in”, she suggested, “but I don’t know much about these things.”

From Dutch’s tent the sound of a gramophone reached her ears, playing some harmonica piece. She suddenly realised that her back was still drenched and excused herself, heading towards her cot to get changed. It wouldn’t do her any good to run around damp in the cold night and catching a cold. In a fresh, dry skirt and blouse she returned, looking for her friends within the jumble of merry people. She saw Arthur and Sadie speaking to Dutch and decided they were best left alone, in case it wasn’t a conversation she should be a part of. Downing the last bit of her bottle she steered towards Hosea, who stood by the kitchen wagon, observing Lenny dancing with Tilly to the music, when Dutch called her name.

“Miss Eliza! How about you join me for a dance?”

She stopped dead in her tracks, cursing silently. She couldn’t say no without being disrespectful, her manners commanded her to accept his invitation. With a forced smile she turned her footsteps towards him, as he held one of his hands outstretched waiting for her to take it. Arthur and Sadie stood a few feet away from him watching her approach, she could see a slight frown on the blonde woman’s forehead.

“It would be my pleasure”, she answered, her voice slightly higher pitched than usual, and placed her hand in his big palm. 

“Oh, the pleasure is mine Miss Eliza.”

He lifted her hand in his and placed his other against her waist, it was clear he knew how to dance and he took the lead naturally. Swaying left and right with the music, she was focused to keep the smile on her lips, following his movements. 

“Come on Morgan, dance with me!”

Sadie’s voice rang from behind her, and Eliza almost burst out laughing. Arthur and Sadie, dancing? But low and behold, as Dutch swung them both around in a slow spin she could see her two friends move to the music in the same fashion, a bit clumsier than her and the black haired man maybe, but especially Sadie seemed to gain ample enjoyment out of it. She grinned at her younger friend widely.  
The pace of the music picked up, and Dutch sent her away with a spin, only holding one hand, then curled her back in, holding on a bit closer than before. Eliza held her eyes fixed on a shirt button on his chest, intent not to look up into his face.  
He liked to show off.  
Moving her feet parallel to his, he turned her in a slow circle again, and she saw Sadie winking at her. She felt a twang of annoyance, why was she drawing amusement out of this? Molly would be furious at her, besides Sadie certainly knew how she felt about their leader. Eliza hadn’t thought the woman would be the type to gain malicious glee from a friend’s discomfort.  
Another flurry in the music and Dutch prepared another flourish, sending her out and away from him, holding her right hand. Within a second, she barely had the time to register what was happening, Sadie had taken her left and twisted her around, freeing her hand from Dutch’s grip and sending her twirling into Arthur’s arms, all the while keeping her composure and joining up with Dutch’s steps, replacing her as his partner. It was all over so quick, Eliza barely caught her mischievous smile before Arthur steadied her, his face just as stunned and confused as hers as he instinctively took her hand into his own and tried to regain the rhythm with his new partner. They staggered a bit at first, staring at each other in bewilderment, before she caught herself and led him to fall back into the swing of the music.  
She smiled awkwardly up at him, her heart beating in her chest as if it was joining a different dance that was five times as quick as theirs. He cleared his throat, holding her gaze, a subtle hint of colour on his cheeks. The campfire cast a warm hue onto his face and made his eyes flicker, the blue of his iris now shifting between green and amber in the orange flame. She felt a strange sensation in her stomach and a nervous giggle escaped her throat. Realising that she had been staring at him for just a second too long she turned her head, severing the connection. His right hand was laid on her waist, lightly, almost hovering, as if he was not sure if he was allowed to hold her. Ever the gentleman. The two moved slowly, he soon took over the lead and set his hand a bit firmer on her after she had leaned into the touch herself. This felt so much different than it had with Dutch just seconds ago. She could feel the warmth of his body through her clothes and was embarrassed by the light clamminess of her palm in his. If he noticed, he didn’t seem to mind.   
They swayed together in the rhythm of the music, in perfect harmony. His feet weren’t as practised as hers and he didn’t move quite as naturally to the tune, but she trusted him and he trusted her. Circling slowly, she caught a glimpse of Sadie’s grin. She looked mighty satisfied with herself, watching her and Arthur and paying Dutch’s sour expression no mind.   
As the music swelled up and reached another flurry, Arthur held her hand high and guided her into a twirl, sending her skirt to flare out lazily around her legs. She spun her head to face him as she whirled on the spot, until he lowered his arm and caught her safely, guiding them back into a steady sway. She felt just a little dizzy. He held her steady, his gentle touch tripling her heartbeat it seemed like. 

Get it together. It’s just a dance.

The first dance with a man that she thoroughly enjoyed though. She pushed the thoughts of what that might mean out of her mind, not willing to investigate the heat in her cheeks or the fluttering of her stomach at present.  
The music got a little louder, it was obvious that it prepared for the finale and Arthur sent her spinning out, holding her there for a moment before twisting her back in, their arms curling up with each other until he caught her with his other hand, her back firmly pressed against his chest as the crescendo came to an end. They looked at each other as the last note faded, faces flushed and breath going a bit quicker than normal, the camp around them forgotten. Then he released her hands and stepped back, tipping his hat.

“Thank you ma’am.”

As quick as that, the spell was broken. She was suddenly very aware of the faces staring at them, it felt like half the camp had followed their dance. Sadie passed Dutch into Molly’s arm, the redhead looking sour and clasping at her sweetheart, desperate to keep him to herself now.  
Eliza tried to catch a glimpse at Arthur’s face beneath the hat and believed she saw his lips curved into a gentle smile. Not quite sure what the appropriate response was in this situation, she did a little courtesy as she had been taught.

“Thank you, Mister! It was a pleasure”

He looked at her from under the brim of his hat, there was definitely a small smile beneath his stubble. She couldn’t help but let out a giggle again, feeling quite foolish because of it. Averting her eyes, she added quietly: “It has been a while since I last danced with someone I didn’t despise.”

He exhaled in a silent laugh and hooked his thumbs under his gunbelt. Why did she only just now realise how handsome this man was? She quickly pushed the thought aside.  
Sadie came into her field of view, throwing her arm around her shoulders.

“You kids had fun? I wasn’t nearly drunk enough for this, gotta drown myself in whiskey now.”

Eliza’s mind was full of questions for her, but lacking the ability to formulate even a single one of them she was condemned to stare at her back as the woman walked away, towards the alcohol supply at the kitchen wagon.

“You, uh, wanna go sit by the fire?”

There he was, the awkward Arthur Morgan that she had first met through the bars of the prison wagon, sat on the stool, his journal on his lap. She couldn’t help but smile to herself. Back then she had been terrified of him and now… Now she was disappointed that the dance with him was over. 

“Sure, I’m getting a bit cold.” 

They made their way to the campfire, keeping a couple feet apart. The distance felt like a precaution, there was a strange air between the two of them. Not in a bad way, just… Different. Like they had just met each other anew, careful not to overstep any boundaries the other might have. They walked in comfortable silence towards the gathered people laughing. In this moment Eliza truly felt as if she was home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this really is a slow burner, it's only taken 22 chapters until we finally have a little something romantic! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing this one. Thank you for staying with me until now and being so patient :) Take this one a little earlier as apology for the last two chapters that came late, the next one will be uploaded on Sunday again!


	23. Embers in the Night

Javier was playing his guitar with Uncle sitting next to him, Karen had finally given in to Sean’s advances and was seated on his lap. Miss Grimshaw sat on the log, Pearson and Lenny stood nearby. Arthur offered Eliza the comfortable space on the wolf pelt next to the older woman, whilst he lowered himself down onto the ground next to her. Pearson produced a bottle of Bourbon, passing it on to do the rounds.

Uncle had just begun a song, Karen and Miss Grimshaw joined in. Eliza had never seen the old woman this relaxed and was transfixed, watching her smile whilst she sang along.   
  
_“Oh! I’m a wild free rover,  
I sing a merry song;  
The wide, wide world I wander over,  
With a light, light heart I rove along.  
Oh with a light, light heart I rove along!”_  
  
She clapped as the song came to an end, everyone joining in happily. Karen and Sean staggered off to get more beer or to find some privacy, she didn’t exactly care know. Javier struck up a soft melody on his guitar as Miss Grimshaw excused herself to go to bed. Pearson took her seat a moment later, passing Eliza the bottle of whiskey the second time.  
  
“You enjoying yourself?”, the stout cook asked her.  
  
She wiped her mouth with her sleeve and passed the bottle onto Arthur, who took it off her, one brow cocked.  
  
“I do, thank you! It’s a lovely party, I certainly didn’t expect this when I signed up to be part of an outlaw gang”, she laughed. “But I’m not complaining, seeing Miss Grimshaw smile for once is quite the view.”  
  
Pearson laughed heartily, and she glanced at Arthur to her right, his shoulders shaking with a soundless chuckle.   
  
“Aaah I remember a time where Susan wasn’t all work”, Pearson mused. “Back in the days, when she and Dutch was together, she was a right spitfire. Fierce and fiery, never too soft for any job.”  
  
The girl stared at him. “What do you mean, when Dutch and her were together. Like _together_ together?”  
  
She tried to imagine Miss Grimshaw being young and, well, pretty enough to draw the man’s attention, but couldn’t quite conjure up the image. Arthur explained when Pearson seemed lost in a memory of times long past.  
  
“Oh yeah, she only fell in with us because her and Dutch were a thing, that was before all of this.” He waved his hand over the camp. “Back then it was just Dutch, Hosea and I, and then Susan tagged along. She was always good to me.”   
  
Arthur had never spoken about the past before, and Eliza was incredibly curious. She had been wondering about his relationship with Hosea, of course Dutch must have been there too at the very start. Pearson picked up.  
  
“Yeah, she got a bit mother bear-ish, but she’s a fine woman. I only wish she was available…” His voice trailed off and she smiled to herself. Pearson and Grimshaw, she wasn’t sure if they would be such a good fit, but who was she to judge a man on a little crush. Her eyes wandered to Arthur, whose face was still obscured by his hat.  
  
“That woman would eat you alive, Pearson!”, Javier laughed. The cook didn’t respond, he just grumbled and stared into the fire.

  
Uncle started on a new song.  
 _  
“When I was just a lad you know,_

_I met a girl from ol' Bordeaux,_

_She had blond hair and blue eyes too;_

_She let me ride on the ring-dang-do.”_

  
Arthur laughed and joined in on the last line, as did Pearson and Lenny, and before long Javier accompanied them with his guitar. It was a crude song about a woman’s private parts, but Eliza was loosened up by the booze and giggled with them, first humming along and then even singing the chorus.  
  
 _“The ring-dang-doo, now what is that?  
It’s soft and round like a pussy cat,  
Got a hole in the middle and is split in two;  
That’s what you call a ring-dang-doo!”  
  
_Her little group broke out in a joined laugh as the last notes ebbed off.  
  
“I didn’t take you for a lady to sing such filthy songs at the campfire Bonita!” Javier said, a sly glint in his eyes as he looked at her.  
  
“And I didn’t take the man who stole me out of my bed as such an excellent musician, yet here you are”, she replied, in a playful tone, a cheeky grin on her lips.   
  
“Javier you sly dog, you are meant t’ steal the ladies and get them _into_ bed, not _out_ of it!” laughed Uncle, joining in with the banter. Her cheeks flushed at this remark, realising too late how her words could be interpreted.  
  
“What’s this about Escuella getting in bed with our Eliza?”  
  
Sadie’s raspy voice sounded from behind her, she slurred her words ever so slightly. Eliza’s head felt so hot she was sure her skin was the colour of a ripe tomato now, and in an attempt to not look like a flustered little girl, she replied: “He’s welcome to try, though I’m sure we all remember what happened the last time someone had the intention of _bedding_ me, right Arthur?”  
  
Her words had the effect she hoped for, and everyone but Javier started howling with laughter. Uncle patted his shoulder sympathetically, the copper skinned man feigned heartbroken disappointment on his face, playing along with the joke.  
  
“Sounds like she’s found a guard dog with you Morgan!” Pearson jested, and she caught Arthurs eyes for a moment, smiling back at him mischievously. He only hummed in agreement, his features unmoving.  
  
“Only thing she’s takin’ t’bed with her’s her gun, and I dare all of you to lay a finger on our little doe! ‘specially with me sleepin’ in the wagon next to her”, Sadie announced, letting a hand fall onto her shoulder. “She’s too good for the likes of y’all!”  
  
Flattered but slightly annoyed by her overly protective manner the younger woman shuffled on her pelt. “I’m no better than anyone here, you don’t need to worry about me.”   
  
“That ain’t true and you know it. You’re sweet an’ innocent an’ pure, I ain’t lettin’ any of these bastards change ya into what they are!”  
  
She was clearly drunk, way more than Eliza originally had thought. But she’d had a good amount of juice too and couldn’t hold her tongue, hoping to impress and shake everyone’s view of her as a helpless little girl. “I don’t know about that, seems like you think you know more about me than you do. I’m not quite as innocent and pure as you believe!”  
  
Uncle hooted at that and Lenny piped up.  
  
“Bet she had a different servant in her bed every night! Y’all know what they say about all them rich ladies, they got a taste for the cocoa!” He swung his hips suggestively as he drew out the last word, and Eliza was just about to answer what she thought of his _cocoa_ , as Arthur laid his hand on her knee. A warmth spread through her whole leg and she felt that strange sensation in her stomach again.   
  
“Don’t say nothin’ now you might regret tomorrow”, he murmured in a low tone so only she could hear him, then raised his voice addressing the rest of the group. “What’s with all of you damn fools, forgettin’ your manners in front of a lady!”   
  
“’s all in good sport Morgan, bit of teasin’ won’t do her no harm”, Uncle replied.  
  
“Don’t be such an old grouch! She’d say if she wasn’t fine with it, right Eliza?” Lenny smiled at her, wriggling his eyebrows.   
  
She nodded, but before she could answer Arthur got up to his feet, offering her his hand and pulled her up with him as she took it without even thinking.  
  
“Yer mumma never taught you a woman’s purity ain’t yours to pry on?” His voice had a disapproving ring to it. He let go of Eliza’s arm and looked down at her, frowning. She swayed on her feet, only now realising how drunk she actually was. He quickly steadied her, holding her gently by the upper arm. He sighed.  
  
“How ‘bout I bring ya to your cot, them lot can be dangerous to be ‘round for a woman in your state.”  
  
“I’m good Arthur, let me stay up a bit longer. I can take care of myself!” She raised her arm and jokingly flexed her biceps. It didn’t even match the size of his lower arms, strong and muscular as they were. “They don’t scare me!”  
  
She could hear Sadie laugh, and turning to her she saw the blonde taking her seat.  
  
“Hey! That’s my spot”, she complained.  
  
“Arthur’s right, go an’ air out that pretty little head of yours at least”, she waved her hand dismissively towards the cliffside. “Make sure she won’t fall off, alright?”  
  
The question was aimed at Arthur, and Eliza scoffed. Falling off a rock wasn’t on her to-do-list for today, besides, she wasn’t _that_ drunk! He gently encouraged her to move, his hand still holding her arm which made her all weird and tingly.   
  
_Must be the whiskey.  
_  
She staggered away from the campfire towards the ledge and he led her silently, catching her twice when she stumbled over her own feet.   
  
“I’m not as innocent as you all think”, she lulled, still feeling the need to defend herself. He only hummed in response.  
  
Arthur led her to a boulder and let go of her arm, sitting down and gesturing for her to do the same. She followed suit and leant her back against the cold stone, the world swimming in front of her eyes.  
  
“I-I can shoot, used to at least an’ I could d-drink most of my father’s men under the table, HA”, she let out a loud laugh, reminiscing about the suitors in their fancy dinner frocks, truly and utterly drunk, not even able to hold their glass anymore because they underestimated her. Arthur sighed.  
  
“That may have been true back at yer daddy’s home, but you’re runnin’ with a gang of practised drunkards now. Don’t be goin’ and challenging them, you won’t win I promise.”  
  
She scowled at him, he made her feel like a little girl and she _hated_ it.  
  
“You’re just as bad as them, always tryin’ to protect me, I don’t need a safeguard”, she huffed, “I’m twenty six you know, not sixteen. An’ even then I could take care of myself when dad’s greasy friends wan’ed to get in my bed.” He was just about to answer, when she cut him off: “And Micah doesn’t count, if you hadn’t locked me up in the first place that woul'n’t have happened!”  
  
He looked at her, a strange expression on his face. She thought it was belittling, and… was that pity? He sighed again. “You finished?”  
  
Eliza pulled her knees to her chest, hugging them close. The night was cold here in the dark without the fire. Wordlessly he draped his jacket over her shoulders. It was heavy and smelled of leather, sweat, smoke and horse. It needed a wash for sure she thought, but it was still warm from the heat of his body. She muttered a thanks and Morgan laughed his raspy laugh.  
  
“I never thought you needed protection, _Miss_. You just ain’t used to this way of life and I didn’t want you to be embarrassed tomorrow. If you even remember all this.” Eliza kept quiet as he lit himself a cigarette, taking a couple drags before he added: “Besides, Sadie’s gonna kill me if I ever let anythin’ happen to her _little doe_. You want to talk about bein’ overprotective, talk to her!”  
  
She was still irritated, but even drunk her had to admit that his arguments made sense. Curse him and his common sense, all high and mighty and not to be argued against. The cold air sent a breeze through her hair as she locked her gaze with his, the moonlight reflecting in those much-too-gentle-for-an-outlaw eyes.  
  
“I don’t need a guard dog, Arthur. I just don’t want anyone to think I’m weak.” Her eyes started to fill with tears like they wanted to mock her mumbled words, she quickly wiped them away. “I just… want to be my own woman, responsible for myself.”  
  
He chuckled softly, dropping his gaze and lowering his head until she couldn’t see anything under his hat but his smiling lips. “You’ll get there”, he replied, “but there’s no shame in gettin’ a little help along the way. ‘ _Gotta learn how to walk before you can run’_ Hosea’d say.”  
  
She huffed again, not wanting to outright agree that she needed plenty of guidance, but of course he was right. She stared at her knees for a long time, not saying a word while he smoked his cigarette, looking up at the clear night sky. The young woman tried to get a clearer head, not completely overrun by boozy emotion, but all that tumult inside her head and heart was so incredibly exhausting. She welcomed Morgan’s gentle voice, distracting her from her musings.  
  
“See that star up there? The bright one, right there. It’s called Polaris. If you ever get lost at night, that’s the one you want to find, it always shows north.” He pointed at a star close to the horizon, just over the mountains. “Make sure t’remember that.”  
  
Eliza followed his outstretched arm and saw the twinkling star he was pointing at. It was gorgeous, outshining all the others around it. Her lips parted slightly as she was looking at it, trying to take in what he just told her about it. She’d never had much interest in the constellations of the sky, aside from marvelling at their magical grace when she felt sad she didn’t tend to pay the stars much attention. When she looked back at him his eyes were resting on her, patiently awaiting a reply.  
  
“I-it’s beautiful”, she managed.  
  
“Mmh. Useful too. Suppose that was _bein’-your-own-woman_ lesson number one”, he chuckled. He extinguished his cigarette on the rock behind him and flicked the butt over the edge of the drop. “Come on now, you look like you’re about to nod off. You need some sleep”, he said as he was getting up, holding out his hand to help her up. She grabbed it, grumbling her disapprovement.   
  
He led Eliza all the way back to her bedroll and made sure she was safely tucked in, not without reclaiming his jacket. They could already hear Sadie snoring and she giggled; he just gave she a sympathetic smile when she mentioned it.  
  
“Hope she ain’t keeping you up with that. Sometimes she sounds like she’s sawin’ logs, no idea how her Jake put up with that durin’ the nights.”  
  
Her giggling became a snort, “That’s love for you”, she replied.  
  
He exhaled sharply in a silent laugh. “Goodnight _little doe_ ”, he hummed, heading off, back towards the fire.  
  
Her eyes lingered on his back as he walked, jacket casually slung over one shoulder. Could someone’s back be handsome? The embers from the fire swirled lazily around his silhouette as he rejoined the now smaller group. Javier was still plinking away on his guitar, and like so often his play lulled Eliza to sleep, her last thought being of Arthur’s eyes reflecting the flickering flames.


	24. After Effects

Her head was pounding something fierce. Waking up later than usual, the sun was glaring into Eliza’s face and all she wanted to do was to cover herself with her blanket, disappearing from life. She felt sick and hungry at the same time, not sure which feeling should take priority. Turning away from the painful blazing ball in the sky, she pulled the blanket over her head, not ready to face the day yet.  
How much _did_ she drink last night? She had a couple beers before the dance, then there was whiskey at the campfire… The dance. She could feel her face flush red as the memory came back. Dutch’s initial invitation and then Sadie, practically throwing her into Arthur’s arms.  
Sure, Sadie had done it in a very elegant way, an elegance she wouldn’t have attributed the woman before, yet she still… What, passed her on? Set her up? For the last ten years of her life, this was what she had tried to escape. Her father wanting to fix her up with some man of his choosing, and now _Sadie Adler_ was playing matchmaker too? It was infuriating, humiliating. Knowing what she did about Eliza’s feelings towards her father, how could she have done this to her?  
Yet… Dancing with Arthur had certainly been preferable to dancing with Dutch. Maybe she had just wanted to spare her from Molly’s anger… She had admitted to Sadie that all she’d gotten from the pretty redhead was angry glances and cold silence whenever she had tried to talk to her. The pounding in her temples intensified and she decided not to think about this conflict in her mind anymore for the time being. It was bad enough to wake up as if she had been rolled over by a stagecoach, she didn’t need to ponder over whether she’d been _thrown_ in front of it by someone she trusted too. Bottom line was, she had liked dancing with Morgan and thinking back to the way he’d gently held her waist… Her stomach lurched as the strange sensation bubbled up again, and she could just about throw off her cover and stumble around Sadie’s wagon before she involuntarily emptied the contents of her gut onto the ground behind it. She felt dizzy and the whole world was still spinning. Keeping herself upright by desperately clutching onto the wagon next to her, she managed to shuffle back to her cot. The sunlight still hurt her eyes, and she groaned loudly as she let herself fall on the edge, annoyed to have let it get that far.   
  
“Welcome back to the livin’, little Miss Sunshine”, Sadie’s hoarse voice sounded from her right, the grin on her lips audible without needing to see her face. “You sleep well?”  
  
The blonde woman was leaning against the wagon, taking in her undoubtedly pitiful appearance. Eliza was even wearing the same clothes as last night, boots included. Her answer only consisted in another pained groan and she buried her head in her palms, elbows resting on the knees. She was not ready to welcome the world right now. She ignored the approaching footsteps, wishing everyone would just go away.  
  
“You’re awake! Here, I got some yarrow off Charles, I’mma make you some tea with it. Should help with your head.”  
  
With great effort she lifted her head, squinting up at Morgan who was holding out a bunch of pretty red flowers in front of her face. She couldn’t help but cock one eyebrow, smiling slyly.   
  
“I thought you’re supposed to bring the lady flowers _before_ you ask her to dance.”  
  
The range of expressions on his face was all worth it, surprise at her quick thinking quickly transforming into a bashful glance, then there was a trace of embarrassment and finally concluding in an eye roll of annoyance. She stifled a laugh.  
  
“I ain’t asked you to dance”, he just muttered, but the colour in his cheeks betrayed his overly blasé tone. “If you’re well enough to go spewing sarcasm I wonder if ya need this tea at all.”   
  
So, he was shy too, as well as a gentleman. How in the world was he a murdering, thieving outlaw again…? Eliza laughed, wincing as it sent a fresh jolt of throbbing pain through her head.   
  
“Thank you, and my apologies. Some tea would be lovely”, she answered, eyes closed and rubbing her fingers against her temples in a fruitless attempt to ease the headache.  
He returned a few minutes later, passing her a cup with steaming water. The flowers were now submerged at the bottom, releasing a touch of orange colour and a strange, astringent smell. Morgan sat down on the little stool, Sadie had taken up the space next to her on the cot. Eliza bowed her head, stretching her neck out slowly.  
  
“Thanks guys. You can head off and do whatever, I’ll be fine. There’s no use in sitting here mothering me”, she murmured, half irritated and half ashamed by their overprotective manner towards her self-inflicted misery.   
  
Sadie chuckled. “We ain’t goin’ anywhere, might not look like I’m dyin’ like you do, but I ain’t feelin’ like a spring chicken either.” Arthur hummed in agreement.   
  
“Where’s your flower soup then?” Eliza replied in slight jest, lifting the cup to her lips. It was still too hot to drink, so she blew on the surface. She tried a careful sip to taste, but ended up singing the tip of her tongue anyway. What was a little extra discomfort in her current state. It was bitter, with a hint of a heavy sweetness in it and she pulled her face into a grimace. “Couldn’t you get some nicer tasting flowers?”  
  
“Hmm, might have, but they wouldn’t help ya with the headache, Miss.”  
  
Grumbling, she shot Arthur a dark look. Tea against headache, she didn’t quite believe in it, but there would hardly be any Laudanum to be found in an outlaw camp who’s only drug addict recently decided to come clean. Curse the Reverend and his righteous virtues. Morgan was observing her, a measuring look in his eyes.  
  
“When’s the last time you’ve eaten?”  
  
His question caught her off guard, she couldn’t remember being put on the spot like that. She could feel him exchanging a glance over her head with Sadie.  
  
“Err, yesterday morning, I think? I was out on my walk for the rest of the day, didn’t think to take anything with me.”  
  
Sadie gave her a little clap on the head which immediately flared up in a new wave of pulsating pain.   
  
“Ow, Sadie! What was that for?!”  
  
“No wonder you’re feelin’ so darned lousy girl! You’re s’posed to eat before you’re downing beers an’ whiskey like ya did!” Sadie’s volume exceeded her temporarily very low noise tolerance and she shrugged her head between the shoulders like a tortoise.  
  
The blonde woman tutted but Arthur was already on it, picking some food from the kitchen wagon, ignoring the complaining Pearson. Eliza would have to bring him an extra fat kill soon to thank him.  
Her stomach didn’t feel as bad as it had done earlier, but the thought of food made her a bit queasy. Nibbling at the oat cake he passed her, she tried to think of an excuse for them to leave her company, she didn’t fancy being babysitted too much. Arthur spoke up, pulling her out of her thoughts.  
  
“How much do you remember? You wasn’t shy drinking down that whiskey at the fire.”  
  
She could see him looking at her out of the corner of her eyes and avoided his gaze, concentrating intensely on the cookie in her hand.  
  
“A fair bit I think. Everything up to the campfire, the songs there and… didn’t you pull me away? Because of something the boys said?” Frowning, she tried to recall the events of last night at the fire. There was a bit of flirting, an argument, then Arthur and her sat at the cliff. “Oh. I got angry at you. I’m sorry”, she murmured, still not looking at the man.  
  
“’t’s alright, you was drunk. I been yelled at before, don’t bother me much no more”, he laughed, making her feel a bit better. “You weren’t entirely wrong either I suppose. I ain’t the best explaining myself, don't think I worded things the right way.”  
  
She stole a shy look at him through the strands of her hair that had fallen out of the plait in the night. He smiled a warm smile, but his eyes had a sadness in them. Clearly he wasn’t happy about his inability to express himself. He didn’t strike Eliza as someone who couldn’t put things into words however, even if he was a bit blunt at times. She had always liked blunt honesty better than sweet lies.  
  
“I also remember you showing me the north star”, she said gently in an effort to make him feel better. It worked, a little at least, and his smile widened.  
  
“Yeah? We gotta be careful what we’re getting’ up to, you seem to remember an awful lot for having been in such a state last night”, he chuckled. “At least you won’t be gettin’ lost anytime soon.”  
  
Sadie gave a hearty kackle when a loud voice sounded from halfway across the camp. It was the Irish lad that had come home last night, Sean.  
  
“And t‘ere she is, the famous lady Cornwall! Fallen out ‘er pop’s hands into ours!” He approached with wide steps, coming to a standstill in front of her and taking her hand into his with a bow, planting a kiss on the back of it. “Name’s Sean MacGuire mylady, pleasure ta make your acquaintance!”  
  
Learned politeness made her smile and nod as she stared up at him. The volume he spoke in hurt her head and he was no less energetic now than last night when he had been drunk. She ignored her inner groan and stood up, giving him a little curtsy to play along with his overly flamboyant introduction.  
  
“Please, call me Eliza. I’m not overly fond of my father’s name I’m afraid. How do you do?” She put on her thickest English accent and had to swallow her giggle at the look on the faces of Sadie and Arthur. Now _that_ was entertainment.  
  
“An’ you’re from the island! Ain’t she a wonderful sight. Never seen a fairer lass in all of the old kingdom If ye allow me to be so blunt.” He grinned at her, quite handsomely she had to admit to herself, with his boyish charisma.   
  
She faked a high pitched titter and held her hand in front of her face as if to hide a flattered blush.  
  
“She’s a right catch, ain’t she! Don’t you go and fish in the wrong pond now boy.”  
  
Karen had appeared in her night gown still, even though the sun was way past it’s highest point now. Her voice was light and playful but had a warning tone to it which Sean too seemed to notice as he stepped back quickly, letting go of Eliza’s hand. The blonde girl flung her arm around his shoulders, and he held her waist.  
  
“Don’t you go get a crush on the bastard here, he’s broken many hearts and none of ‘em deserved it. Well, maybe some did”, Karen mused, “but you wouldn’t. He likes putting on his charm with beautiful women.”   
  
She still sounded light hearted, but her body language was stiff and almost possessive, gripping Sean’s shoulder tightly. Eliza let her lips curl into a slanted smile and shook her head.   
  
“Don’t worry, my mother taught me not to trust Irishmen, no matter how charming”, she replied, hearing Sadie give a chuckle in the background. Sean was appalled, but he didn’t speak. “Besides, I wouldn’t dare cross you, you can be well scary did you know?”  
  
Karen gave a barking laugh and seemed to ease up a bit. Sean gave her an uncertain smile, visibly relieved.   
  
“I just had to welcome our newest member, always good to ‘ave some new blood on board ain’t it! No big deal”, he justified, a bit too quick for it to be natural.   
  
Karen steered him around, pulling him away. “Well you met her now, let’s go before Sadie knocks you out again. She ain’t looking too happy and I can’t blame her, you bein’ such a loudmouth all the time. Sorry ya had to deal with him”, she added, directed towards them, “He just gets excited every time he sees a new pair of knockers. We’ll leave ya in peace now.”  
  
And with that he was pushed towards the girls’ tents. Eliza let herself fall back down onto the cot with a sigh.  
  
“ _How do you do_ , ey?”, Sadie mocked. “I see we’ve got to work on your language yet!”  
  
“You’ve got something against my accent? At least one of us can speak English properly!” Eliza replied, laughing.   
  
Sadie jostled her elbow into her ribs. “You mean fancy speech, with lots’a words and no meaning behind ‘em. Don’t seem so proper to me, don’t you agree Arthur?”  
  
The man had sat there in silence for a few minutes now, quietly watching the exchange with Sean and Karen unfold. He hummed. “I don’t mind it, think it sounds quite nice.” Sadie threw the butt of her cigarette at him in protest.  
  
Eliza just laughed as they squabbled and sipped the rest of her yarrow tea. It made her face scrunch up in distaste, but if Charles reckoned this helped with headache it was worth a try, he had yet to let her down with his knowledge of the nature all around them. She might ask him to accompany her on another hunt if he could spare the time, would be good to feel useful once more. One day she would have to find her own way of making money for the camp, doing daily chores wasn’t exactly her idea of an exciting life running with an outlaw gang. If she asked nicely, he might show her how to hunt bison, one of those beasts would feed the entire gang for a week! Sadie’s loud exclamation snapped her back into reality.  
  
“How dare you Morgan! I ain’t never been unfaithful to my Jakey. Not in life and not in death!” She crossed her arms and puffed up her cheeks.  
  
Eliza set her empty cup on the dirt before her and looked anxiously from one to the other, trying to figure out why on earth Arthur would make such an insulting suggestion. It wasn’t long before Sadie’s lips twitched however and betrayed her act. Arthur just sat there, eyebrows raised expectantly, giving her a quick look and eyeroll that made her chuckle.   
  
“You’ll have to forgive her behaviour, she’s a bit of an actress, our Miss Adler. Don’t like to make it easy for anyone to understand her.” He stretched indulgently and groaned, getting to his feet. “I better get on some task or other, Dutch’s gonna chew me out if I don’t do anythin’ useful today.”  
  
Sadie gave up her play at this, her face suddenly fierce with excitement. “Got anything in mind, cowboy?”  
  
“Nah, Hosea mentioned he might have a lead on somethin’. Figured I’d check up with him. You stay here and sleep off yer bottle ache.” He collected his hat and made to leave, when he seemed to think of something and stopped, turning to look at the younger woman. “Hosea also said something ‘bout it possibly involving you, I’ll see what he has to say and let ya know when we got a plan, alright?”  
  
Her heartbeat quickened at the prospect of a job. She swallowed and nodded, suddenly half excited and half terrified. He let his eyes linger on her for a moment before he set off towards the horses, where Hosea was brushing his Silver Dollar. Sadie cleared her throat and got to her feet as well.  
  
“Imma go try and sleep off this nasty day, you should do the same. Little doe like you needs all her strength for a job!”  
  
The blonde grinned at her, but Eliza thought it looked rather kind. Her idea of some more sleep sounded like exactly the thing she felt up to right now.


	25. The Spines of America

The ride to Emerald Ranch was much longer than anticipated, and although Moonshine’s back was broad enough for Eliza to sit comfortably and hold onto Morgan, her arms had started to cramp by the time they’ve arrived at the farm.

They trotted along the dirt road between cattle pens and arrived at a big green barn where Hosea had told them to meet him; he was in deep conversation with a sketchy looking man.  
Hosea had told her only briefly about the job they were about to execute, he seemed to like being cryptic and cloud himself in a bit of mystery. Arthur didn’t seem to know much more about it, but he always followed his old friend without question and she trusted him to know Hosea’s skill.  
  
“Arthur, Miss Eliza! This is Seamus, he’s our new partner”, he introduced the balding man next to him.   
  
“I ain’t no such thing!”, the man interjected, with a defensive gesture.   
  
He evidently didn’t want to fix any business relationships yet, and Eliza watched their little spiel with curious interest. Arthur helped her down off the horse and signalled her to wait by his mare, before he approached their potential partner himself.  
  
“Let us prove ourselves”, offered Hosea. Arthur interjected.  
  
“Prove ourselves? To this clown?”, he pointed at the guy next to his friend and scoffed.  
  
The man didn’t appreciate the brashness, even Eliza was surprised at the blunt manner in which he had just addressed the man. The guy turned and started to walk off.  
  
“Good day Hosea, good luck with your business dealings.”  
  
Hosea was quick to follow, defending Morgan. Eliza followed Arthur to the bench where he had sat down, finishing the cigarette the stranger had thrown on the floor just moments before. She pulled a face, repelled, but followed his example and took a seat next to him, trying to hear what Hosea was discussing with Seamus.  
Arthur got called into their conversation and he took Eliza with him.  
  
“So you want us to take out the competition?” Hosea asked when they joined them.  
  
“Well, he- he’s not just an acquaintance, but a cousin… By marriage. I also wanted to see if you boys got what it takes.” Seamus’ eyes skimmed briefly over Eliza in her breeches. “Now if you survive that…”  
  
“Where is he?”, Hosea asked, cutting straight to the chase.  
  
“He’s in a farmhouse just northwest of here, called Carmody Dell.” He pointed back into the direction where they came from. “It’s just up the train tracks as you’re heading up towards Fort Wallace. There’s also some money in that house… But that’s your business, not mine. But don’t kill nobody”, he added quickly. “Folks know we ain’t intimate no more and they’ll know it was me.”  
  
“But you’re fine with us robbing your cousin?”, Hosea asked, amused.  
  
“By marriage”, Seamus replied. “And yes, I’d love it.”  
  
Eliza held back a chuckle as Hosea said “You heard the man. Let’s go rob his cousin!”  
  
They all turned back to the horses as Seamus added “By marriage!” and at this she couldn’t keep quiet and let out a stifled giggle. Hosea shot her a knowing look, his lips were curled into a smile. They mounted up and rode off towards the farm Seamus mentioned. When they were out of earshot, Hosea turned to Arthur.  
  
“Could have played that better, couldn’t you?”  
  
“I thought you wanted me there to show some strong arm? That’s usually how it goes”, he replied.  
  
“Yes, but… You know how this works!”  
  
“Come on Hosea, that feller’s a joke”, Arthur said and shot Eliza a look over his shoulder. She grinned back.  
  
“And that’s why he’s perfect! He won’t cause us any problems!” The old man seemed to have planned this turn of events all along, being a step ahead of everyone else on the team. “A safe spot to fence wagons and coaches? That’s easy money for us!”  
  
Eliza stayed quiet during the ride until they slowed down and neared their destination. It was a nice quaint little place with one pen of cows, much smaller than Emerald Ranch. It was small enough to be worked by just a single family, she was reminded of her home back in England and felt a stab of pain. After all these years, she still grieved her mother and the life they’ve had.   
They dismounted between some trees, hidden from anyone that might look in their direction. Hosea passed Eliza a bundle of fabric, which to her surprise turned into a skirt when she opened it. He asked her to put it on.  
  
“That barn in the back, stagecoach has to be in there. You and I will perform a little play, Miss Eliza, so Arthur can get in the house and see what else might be of use to us.”   
  
She complied and simply slipped the skirt over her head and chest, hiding the trousers underneath. Morgan was scanning the house with his binoculars.  
  
“We’ll head over and distract ‘em by putting up a little show while you sneak into the house, find what you can. Then get the stagecoach.”  
  
The younger man put his binoculars back in the saddle bag and his glance switched between Hosea and Eliza. “You got a plan for this play?”  
  
Eliza answered before he could. “How about we’re travelling uh – travelling chiropractors? It’s the new trend in Iowa, my father told me about lots of apparent charlatans trying to get some quick money with it, could be easy. I know a few treatment practises; I’ve seen Doctor Palmer perform an alignment on my father.” Arthur just stared at her blankly, but Hosea seemed thrilled.  
  
“That’s an excellent idea Miss Eliza, you truly are full of surprises. So you met the famous Dr. Palmer? What an honour it must have been, the man’s a genius. A genius I tell you young man!”   
  
He slapped Arthur’s back, who seemed to come to his senses and murmured something like an agreement.   
  
“Let’s do it now.”  
  
“Alright then”, Hosea replied and offered Eliza his arm. “Don’t follow us! Wait until we have them distracted outside, then sneak into the house.”  
  
Eliza hooked under with Hosea and beamed at the man staying behind. “Good luck!” He waved it off, as if to say he didn’t need luck. He was a professional outlaw after all. She felt nervous and the well known twang of shame at the prospect of stealing from an innocent family made itself known in the pit of her stomach.  
They marched right up to the house, her heart was beating hard in the chest. She had come up with the idea on the spot and had no idea how the old conman usually worked. Thankfully, he took the lead naturally and greeted the young lad sitting on the porch of the house.  
  
“My good man! My good young man. Fair thee well! fair thee well. Is your father home son?”  
  
“Sure is”  
  
The boy eyed them up suspiciously and got caught on Eliza’s chest. She had opened it one button too many to be considered proper, if her mother saw her like this she would have gotten slapped. Her mother wasn’t here anymore though, and the more distraction she could provide, the better. She smiled at him.  
  


“Get him down here please, get him down here.”

The boy could barely rip his eyes from her chest, but at least hadn’t lost all of his wits. “Get lost mister” was all he managed. Hosea, of course, would not.  
  
“I was lost!” he shouted, raising his arms towards the sky. “For many years, I was lost, many years. Now I’m not. You know what-“  
  
The door of the house opened and a man in blue dungarees stepped out.  
“Here he is!” Eliza let go of Hosea’s arm and addressed the man. “Are you by any chance the father of the house?”  
  
He looked grimly at her, not failing to notice her indecently exposed chest. “Sure.” She suppressed a snort. Men were so easy to manipulate.  
  
“Pleasure to meet you!” She did a little curtesy. “My good grandfather was just chatting to junior here-“  
  
He cut her off, barking at Hosea. “You selling something partner?”  
  
Eliza was annoyed that he wouldn’t even give her as much as a greeting and answered: “We’re not selling anything good man, we’re giving it away. We’re here today to bring you the wonders of-“   
  
“Spinal alignment!”, Hosea jumped in, a wide smile on his lips. “I’ve been saved, I’ve been found! The lord god almighty, or whomever built us, our brain’s in here but our soul is in our backs.”  
  
He played out every syllable of every word with the grandeur Eliza had only seen in theatre plays, he truly was an outstanding actor.   
  
“You sir, your back looks kinda tricky, and complicated”, he continued, not letting the man come to much word. “the young lady Doctor here can fix that for you! In just ten or fifteen sessions? She’s done wonders on me!”  
  
Eliza made sure to nod enthusiastically but kept in the background as it would be expected of a _proper lady._  
  
“Whiskey suits me fine, Sir”, the man said, giving her a displeased look. He didn’t seem to think a female Doctor would be much good. She cleared her throat and took a step forward, now on the same front as Hosea.  
  
“Whiskey is part of what is causing the problems! It may be a short term solution for the pain, but its long term effect on your skeletal system is severe, resulting in possible Hemiplegia, Lumbago, Neuralgia and even Consumption.” This was total nonsense of course, but he didn’t look like he was well read so she took the chance to include some big words to make herself look like she knew what she was talking about.  
  
Hosea took the resistant man by the shoulder and guided him down the porch with a polite but firm grip. “You ever meet a scot who didn’t hobble in old age? But the English, I’m sure the lovely lady Doctor will confirm, they stand tall, Sir, and what do they drink? Gin! They drink Gin. And what is Gin made of? Juniper!”  
  
He beckoned Eliza to follow, as he led the man a few steps away from the porch, his son close behind. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Morgan slip from behind a tree and towards the house. Deftly done.   
Hosea was explaining the incredible facts about the different effects Juniper and Grain had on the human body and she had to try her hardest not to break out in laughter. The old man was a master of his craft, and she forgot all her guilt of robbing these people over the joy of watching him work his silver tongue. He got the man to lay on the table and invited Eliza to take over. She recalled what she could from when Dr. Palmer had treated her father and started, bending the man’s knees. Meanwhile, Hosea kept the men’s focus on himself with continued talk.  
How long would Arthur need to sweep the house? It wasn’t big, but it had more than just one floor, and she had no idea how efficient the outlaw could be in a limited time span. She proceeded to feel up and down his spine, trying to make out any difference but of course she wasn’t trained in this, so nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Eventually, she decided to try and bluff her way through; she stopped over the lower back area and gasped. She pushed lightly on it.  
  
“That’s the spot!”, he groaned.  
  
She smiled. It wasn’t the spot of course, but the hidden knuckle pressing on the bone in a rather painful way was successful.   
  
“Alright sir, this next bit may hurt a little. But rest reassured you will feel much better after we’re done.”   
  
She pressed on different portions of his spine, while Hosea was showering him in affirmations about his _granddaughter’s_ skill and how he had been stiff as a board before she came back from Iowa, where she’d learnt the ways of a chiropractor.  
Leaning her full weight on the man’s back caused him to push out his breath. She repeated the process slowly in different areas, the boy next to her was transfixed by her heaving chest as she did so.   
  
_Please don’t look back to the house.  
  
_ She was increasingly nervous, trying to buy some time by mimicking Dr. Palmer’s process as best she could and cycling through the pressure techniques. After a couple more minutes she caught Hosea’s glance, he was still engrossed in the rather one sided conversation with their patient. He nodded at her, barely visible, and she gave the man one last push and sighed with relief, stretching her back that had gotten sore from the hard work she just did.  
  
“Now Mister, is this just a little better?”, she asked the man, as he slowly got off the table and back to his feet.  
  
“Y-yeah! It’s… It’s a little bit better!”, his voice sounded so astounded that Eliza was again at the verge of losing her mask. What a gullible fool.  
  
“A-ha!”, Hosea exclaimed, “What did I say, the child is a true magician. This session has been free, but perhaps we might call again?”  
  
“How much will it cost me?” The guy was back to his suspicious self, but his eyes weren’t quite as disregarding this time she thought.  
  
“Our rates are reasonable, Mister”, Eliza offered, following Hosea’s slowly retreating steps. "Have a think about it, we’ll be visiting again within a fortnight!”  
  
She gave a quick curtsy and Hosea waved them goodbye, slowly marching down the path where they came from. She was shaking with suppressed excitement and laughter, Hosea gave her a wink. When they heard the door shut, he shot a quick glance over his shoulder and pulled her off the path to the right, out of sight from the windows of the house. She had let go of his arm and was shaking in silent laughter, looking up at him as he placed both of his hands on her shoulders.   
  
“That was absolutely brilliant, Miss! Absolutely fantastic. Well done.” He winked at her again and pulled her in for a quick hug which she gladly returned. Oh how he reminded her of her late Uncle. “You got a real talent there young lady, I’m so glad we discovered that. Now let’s get to Arthur, he’s waiting in the shed, where I hope he’s found the coach.”  
  
They snuck up to the large shed a little way away from the main house of the farm, where Morgan held the door open just enough for them to slip through. Hosea opened the carriage door and helped Eliza up before he took a seat next to Arthur on the box. They drove out and the horses quickly gained full speed. Eliza could hear Hosea and Arthur conversing and laughing, they quickly exchanged the happenings in and outside the house. It didn’t take long until they were back at the green barn of Emerald Ranch, where the coach got parked in.  
Seamus seemed satisfied with the execution of this job and handed Hosea a stack of bills. They said their goodbyes and turned to Silver Dollar and Moonshine, the two grey horses had followed them all the way. The younger held his hand out to Eliza and pulled her up when she took it.   
  
“I hear you’re the next Ada Rehan! Nice work back there.” His compliment made her blush, she was glad he couldn’t see her behind his back.  
  
“Thank you. You’ve not done bad yourself I hear!”  
  
“Found their stash in the chimney. Fools always think that’s the safest place to hide their tin.”  
  
She laughed, enjoying the feeling of a job well done. “I’ll try to remember that!”  
  
The guilt she had felt earlier on was much easier to be shrugged off with the knowledge that she had found a skill that would help her contribute to the gang. They rode in a solid canter back over the sweeping plains, and soon she saw the familiar train tracks and the woods behind them. They split the money between them, making sure Hosea had the bit that would go into the lockbox. He promised to put both their names in with his. Arthur helped Eliza dismount the huge mare and she stuck around to watch him take care of her and ready her for the night. He didn’t ask, but just got on with his work, taking off her saddle and bridle, brushing and feeding her. Eliza noticed a tenderness in his actions and words around Moonshine she never would have believed the man to be capable of. It was obvious that he loved that horse, and the mare returned his affection. It was wonderful to see.  
He finished his work and joined the girl at the hitching post, observing the horses with her.  
  
“We’ll get you on some horse training soon, I promise”, he told her. “And we’ll find ya a horse too.”  
  
Eliza smiled. “That would be lovely, but only if you don’t mind. I’m sure Sadie or Lenny could show me too. Or one of the girls.” She didn’t want to be a bother to him, especially since he was always busy doing Dutch’s bidding. She had a feeling their leader wouldn’t take kindly to distractions.  
  
“Sure they could.” He looked down at her and adjusted his hat, a sly smile playing on his lips. “But you really wanna be yelled at by that blonde harpy of a woman if you don’t hold the reins proper?”

  
She burst out in laughter “I guess not! She can be well scary I bet.”  
  
“You’d win that one”, he replied, “I’ve seen plenty of ruthless criminals in my years but if I didn’t want one person as my enemy it would be her.” He scratched the stubble on his chin. “She’s got guts and brain in equal measures, but ain’t afraid to storm in without a solid plan. And somehow always makes it out alive, I’ve no idea how she does it. It’s frightening sometimes.”  
  
Eliza agreed. “She really is either blessed by Fortuna or incredibly skilled. After what happened in Valentine…. I think both. How she got us out there alive I don’t know.”  
  
He was watching her attentively while she spoke, the question clearly written on his face. Eliza noticed and realised he wouldn’t know about that day, he wasn’t in camp.  
  
“I’ll tell you another time, it’s quite the story. But now I see Hosea is bragging about me to the girls, I better get over there and remind him that I’m not really his _granddaughter Doctor_.”  
  
He laughed and followed her glance, where Hosea stood in the midst of Tilly, Mary-Beth and Karen, spinning an undoubtedly more exciting tale about the day’s events than what really had happened. Eliza took her leave, not without thanking him again, and joined her friends to attempt some damage control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading this far!  
> Parts of the dialogue in this chapter has been cited from the game, I tried my best to follow the mission as closely as possible whilst having Eliza trod along as non-Mary-Sue. I do hope it works and isn't too strange to read :)


	26. Walk, Jog and Lope

The next morning Eliza was sitting at her usual spot at the cliff with a cup of coffee, enjoying the slight drizzle in the misty air, when Arthur showed up and plopped down next to her.  
  
“You sleep well?”  
  
“Mmh”, she answered with a hum, nodding. “You?”  
  
“Same.” He didn’t say anything else and they sat together, enjoying their coffee in silence. After a while Eliza could feel his eyes on her, so she looked at him questioningly. He hesitated, then asked: “Dutch ain’t asked anything of me today, how about them horse riding lessons?”  
  
Her face brightened and she smiled. “Sure! I’ll just make sure Miss Grimshaw hasn’t got any special chores for me today. Should I ask Lenny if I can borrow Maggie?”   
  
“Lenny’s off in town already, but don’t worry, we’ll just take Moonshine. She’s a patient girl.”  
  
Eliza’s face twisted into a doubtful grimace. “Moonshine? Are you sure?”  
  
He looked at her, puzzled. “Why not? She’s a good horse and she ain’t ever thrown me, goes through a gunfight just as calm as if she was on a peaceful meadow. She’s big, but she’s as tame as anything.”  
  
“Big to you maybe, massive to me”, Eliza mumbled. She trusted the mare, but that didn’t mean she thought she could control a horse that size, no matter how well ridden it was. “My legs won’t even reach down to her ribs!”, she protested. This made Arthur laugh.  
  
“You’ll be fine. She knows how to respond to gentle signals, you won’t need to kick yer heels in. Trust me.”  
  
His encouraging smile was disarming. She gave up and just nodded, nervously smiling back. There was that strange flutter again as they locked eyes. She’d have to deal with that at some point soon.  
  
“Meet me at the horses, I’ll show you how to saddle her up. Might be a bit heavy for ya but you’ll have to learn either way.”  
  
They agreed and she went to her cot, donning her trousers and a pair of laced boots. She was nervous but looking forward to the lesson, not being able to ride confidently was a major setback in this lifestyle. Morgan was kind enough to try and make her more independent, and she wouldn’t disappoint him.  
He was already waiting, Moonshine standing next to him, one of her hind legs casually resting on the tip of the hoof. Her heavy saddle sat on the ground before the outlaw, she was only wearing the woollen blanket on her back. Arthur waved at Eliza as she approached, bridle in hand. He passed her the headstall.   
  
“Touch her by the chin, she’ll lower her head for ya.”  
  
Sure enough, Eliza had barely touched her soft skin, the mare bowed down to her. The bridle was similar to the English tack she was used to, so putting it on wasn’t a challenge, only the noseband was missing.  
Arthur observed her and nodded approvingly when she stepped away, he lifted the saddle off the ground.  
  
“Now come here, I might have to help you a bit. This beast is heavy.”   
  
He offered her to take over the saddle in her arms, and she was barely able to hook her forearms under, big as it was. He withdrew his arms and she almost dropped it, stumbling forward under the weight. Eliza barely held onto it and tried to lift it, with minimal success. The man chuckled and took the saddle back.  
  
“Come on, we’ll make this a bit easier for ya.” He stepped next to a rock, Moonshine following him obediently. He nodded his head towards the small boulder. “Step up here, should be high enough for you to lift the saddle up her back. Just make sure you got safe foothold!”  
  
She followed his advisement and made sure to have both her feet securely on the rock, then nodded. “Pass it up then”, she said, her voice determined.   
  
He lifted the saddle up to her as if it was light as a bag of feathers, where she took it and with a laboured groan hoisted it onto the mare’s back. Moonshine didn’t react, not even a flick of her ear. She made sure it was in the correct place, horn lining up with her withers, then stepped down onto the ground. The young woman was determined to not make a fool out of herself and inspected the saddle carefully, then grabbed the strap and tightened it around the horse’s ribs. The familiar closures were lacking though, so she turned to Morgan. He helped her, showing how to loop the strap around the metal rings and secure it in place.  
  
“If ya do it like this you can readjust easily when you’re in the saddle.” He walked around Moonshine, making small adjustments to the placement of saddle and bridle where needed, then looked at the girl. “Well done. Now go on, get up there!”  
  
Eliza shuffled her feet nervously. “Here, in camp? Can’t we go somewhere a bit less… Crowded?”  
  
He let out a silent laugh before he answered. “We are, but you ain’t getting out of mounting her either way. We’ll head a bit further out before we start proper but there’s no reason you shouldn’t be riding her.”  
  
She resigned with a huff and stepped close to the horse’s side. The stirrup was much lower than it would have been with an English saddle, yet due to Moonshine’s size it was still high enough for her to doubt being able to reach it. He must have read her thoughts.  
  
“If ya grab the horn and back of the saddle you can lift yourself up a bit first, I’ll hold her still in case she moves. Be nice and still now girl.” The last bit he murmured to the mare, in a soft and gentle tone that made Eliza’s cheeks flush.  
  
She nodded without turning her head and followed his instructions, half pulling, half jumping up and getting herself comfortable in the much too large seat. He passed her the reins and adjusted the stirrups to a length that would just about let her rest her feet on them. It was still a foreign feeling not being able to rely on their support as much. She had been right though, her feet barely exceeded the length of the blanket and rested barely below the mare’s widest point.  
  
“Hold the reins in one hand. You won’t need the other, she’ll respond to feelin’ the straps on her neck.” He couldn’t supress an amused smile as he took a step back and took in the picture of the relatively small woman on his massive war horse. She noticed.  
  
“Stop laughing! I feel ridiculous already, without you looking at me as if I was a child” Eliza scorned him, but had to laugh herself. “I must look tiny up here. You sure she’s even gonna feel me?”  
  
“Give her some pressure in your thighs, she’ll feel you alright.”  
  
She complied and it took much less effort than she thought to move the mare to a walk. Arthur caught up in a light run and walked next to Moonshine’s head, where the mare nibbled playfully at his collar.   
  
“You lead the way with your reins and weight, just move ‘em so only one side touches her neck and lean into the curve you wanna take. She’ll go in the right direction.”   
  
Eliza followed his instructions carefully and he led them out of the wood over the train tracks, to a bit of open space where he halted them.   
  
“Just lift the reins a bit and move your weight back in the saddle, she’ll stop. No, don’t tug!”  
  
She dropped the leather straps immediately, following his advice. “Sorry, I’m just used to-“  
  
“’s alright, she’s a strong girl. You won’t need to tug the reins ever if you train your horse right and signal what you want with your weight. How you feelin’ all alone up there?”  
  
Eliza had to stop her mind going back to the sensation of clinging onto his broad back to concentrate.   
_What’s wrong with you today woman!  
_ “It’s a bit strange, but I’ll get used to it. The seat is so big!” She moved around to demonstrate how much space she had.  
  
“It’s supposed to be comfortable, what the hell are you Anglomaniacs using for a saddle, a pancake?” He shook his head. “Right, now we’ll try to get you used to a quicker gait.” He gestured to a hill behind her. “Click your tongue and press into her sides, get her to the top of that slope and back to me in a jog.”  
  
She complied, turned Moonshine around and urged her into a casual trot. She tried to post, but the stirrups were too loose to get the familiar supporting movement into the right rhythm. The mare was following the smallest signals and she was impressed with how well she was trained. Did Morgan himself teach his horse what to do, like he was teaching her now? In a lazy jog they returned back to the waiting man. He was observing her seat and wrinkled his forehead when his eyes came to rest on her feet.  
  
“What were you doing back there, tryna bounce like a darned rabbit?” he asked, as he closed the distance and firmly grabbed her boot, sliding her foot further into the stirrup. “Here, don’t go tiptoeing in the saddle.”  
  
She shrugged helplessly, ignoring the warm prickle on her calf where he had touched her. “I was taught to help the horse with the gait, if you move with the trot it takes some impact off their joints?”  
  
“Not how we do things here. Just stay relaxed in the saddle, unless you’re trying to escape the law in full gallop or somethin’.” The man laughed. “Speaking of, do the same now in a lope.”  
  
He showed her how to change gaits, the right seat for each one and how to steer the horse with weight, touch and noises. The main difference she thought, was that here they trusted their horses much more to know what it should be doing. She had always been told one had to show them exactly what was expected of them and to keep them in control, whilst now she felt as if Moonshine could almost read her mind and followed her signals blindly. She much preferred this way of riding.  
  


  
\---  
  


  
After a couple hours of training Eliza was drenched in sweat, but happy to have picked up on most of the tricks Morgan had shown her. The sun stood high in the sky now and her thighs were sore, she hadn’t spent this much time in the saddle for quite some years.  
  
“Alright, that should to do for now. Well done”  
  
He smiled at her and she dismounted, glad to give her body a rest. Horse riding was a lot of work, she had almost forgotten. She passed the reins to Arthur who swung himself up into the saddle with ease.   
  
“I’ll show ya how to get her into a full gallop, but we’ll leave that for another time. She needs a bit more direction when she’s that fast, she’s a heavy girl.”  
  
He clicked his tongue and turned the mare around,and with no more than a “hyep” she lept into full gallop, gathering speed as she dashed away from where Eliza stood. She stared at horse and rider getting smaller in the distance, circling the hill a few times before turning back, casually leaping over a bush as they thundered past her. _What a show-off_ , she decided yet couldn’t help but smile. Arthur was a tall man, but Moonshine made him look average, if not small. They moved in unison, she observed carefully how he distributed his weight and made only the tiniest adjustments before the horse followed the signals. She marvelled at their perfectly synchronised language, the silent communication and trust between them two. One thing was sure, that man could _ride_.  
They rushed back to her again after a few sweeping curves and Eliza feared she’d be overrun, when Arthur stood up in the saddle and got Moonshine to perform a perfect skid stop, coming to a halt only a couple yards in front of the girl. She greeted them with a wide smile.  
  
“That was amazing!”   
  
The man patted Moonshine’s neck and chuckled. “Easy if ya spend half your life in the saddle. You’ll get there.” He dismounted and passed the horse back into her care. The mare was sweating and breathing heavy from the exercise she just had gotten but seemed more than happy to continue. “Let’s get you back on and head back to camp. They’ll be wondering what we’ve been doing if we stay much longer.”  
  
She nodded, hoping he wouldn’t see the colour rise to her cheeks. She really needed to get her head together, it wouldn’t do to blush like a little girl every time that man looked at her for longer than a second. She pulled herself up onto the mare’s back and they walked back to camp, Arthur now beside her rather than in front, casually discussing the differences between English and Western riding styles.


	27. Pride and Prejudice

When they arrived back at camp Sadie was laughing her head off at the sight of Eliza on Moonshine. She tried to keep her composure but couldn’t hide the fact that she was hurt from Morgan. She knew she looked silly on the huge mare, but Sadie’s unashamed taunting made it worse.  
  
The outlaw put a hand on her shoulder as she was loosening the saddle. “Don’t take it to heart, she doesn’t have much subtlety but don’t mean any harm”, he tried to console her.   
  
Eliza just continued with her work, having to focus on what she was doing more than usual to not let his touch distract her.  
  
“That’s enough Sadie, give the girl a rest! She’s picked up riding Moonshine real quick, not like you and Hera. I remember her throwin’ you off more times than I can count”, he yelled out to the blonde woman who was still trying to catch her breath and wiping the tears out of her eyes.  
  
Eliza was thankful for his help, but also very aware that yet again he had to protect her and her honour. She was sick of looking like a child to everyone, even with a huge horse beneath her. She pulled at the saddle, determined to put it away by herself, but lost her balance when it tipped from Moonshine’s back into her arms. She stumbled backwards where Arthur barely caught her by the arms.  
  
“Whoa there, don’t you go and bury yourself under that thing! We’ll get you a smaller one, mine here would be too big for ya anyway!”  
  
He took the heavy leather seat off her and swung it onto the hitching fence nearby. She didn’t look at him or anyone else, just concentrated on the mare’s bridle and fumbled to get it off. _At least this won’t be too heavy,_ she thought bitterly. She slid the headstall off the horse's nose and handed it over to Arthur, who in return gave her a carrot. Moonshine whinnied softly, excited for the treat. Eliza gladly complied, caressing her strong neck.  
  
“Thank you, big girl”, she murmured to the mare that was chomping away happily, “you’ve been real good to me today.” She gave her forehead a last loving scratch, then turned to Arthur who stood near, observing her approvingly.  
“Thank you too. Really. I appreciate you giving up so much of your time to help me get… well, get accustomed to this kinda life.” She gave a sigh. “It means a lot to me, makes me feel like I belong.”  
  
His eyes locked with hers and she felt the familiar strange stomach flutter again. _Just shut up now_ , she scolded her abdomen silently. This was getting old.  
  
“Ain’t nothin’, just want to make sure you can handle yourself. You’re stronger than you think and a quick learner, I bet you’ll feel like you’ve never lived any different in a few weeks.” He hooked his thumbs under his belt and rocked slightly on his heels. “Besides, you _do_ belong. You made your decision, so yeah. You’re one of us.”   
  
A wave of warmth flooded over her at these words. She could barely see the tip of his nose under the brim of his hat. One of these days she’d have to get herself one too, it seemed to be a very handy tool to hide your face.   
  
“That old fool is right. Sorry girl, you just looked so _tiny_ up there, what a sight.” Sadie had reached them and threw one arm over Eliza’s shoulders. She just shrugged, still annoyed at the woman’s outburst. The blonde continued: “So Arthur over here been teaching you? How d’you even understand the man, he hardly speaks our language most the time!”  
  
He protested, but before he could get in a proper reply, Eliza had shaken off Sadie’s arm and turned around to face her. “At least he didn’t laugh at me. I’m sick of being treated like a child, I’m doing my hardest to catch up to you lot, but all you do is laugh at my progress.”  
  
Her voice was now raised, she couldn’t help but let out her anger at the woman she had idolised for so long. It was so _frustrating_ to finally meet and befriend her, something she never really thought would be possible, only to then realise how _inferior_ she felt. Like a trained and groomed lap dog meeting a wild, untamed wolf.   
  
“I get that I look like I had a sheltered and easy life, I suppose that’s true if you compare it to you people. But that doesn’t make me any less of a grown up, valuable person! Hosea, Arthur and me, we did a job yesterday, did you know? And I was GOOD. I helped. We brought back a bunch of money, and I’ve only really been here for what, a couple weeks? If you don’t count the time I was imprisoned in that goddamn wagon of course!”   
  
She was breathing heavily, blinking tears out of her eyes. Why did she always have to cry when she got enraged, she hated it.  
  
Sadie had her hands raised, in silent defence. She waited for her outburst to be over, then lowered her arms and answered, in a calming tone. “I’m sorry girl, didn’t mean no harm. I ain’t got half the – what was it you called it Arthur? Tact? Yeah, I ain’t got half the _tact_ most people expect of a woman.” She held out her right hand, in a peace offering. “I can’t promise not to laugh ever, but I’ll tell ya here and now, it ain’t ever gonna be ‘cause I’m laughing _at_ you.”  
  
Eliza considered her suspiciously, not sure how to answer. She was still upset but supposed the woman really hadn’t wanted to hurt her. After a short moment of silent hesitation, she shook her outstretched hand and nodded.  
  
“Miss Eliza, you truly are one hell of a young woman.”  
  
Dutch had approached, Eliza assumed he must have heard the commotion and wanted to investigate. She didn’t welcome the man in such a state as she was but turned to him anyway.  
  
“Thank you, Dutch. Please drop the Miss if you don’t mind, I don’t feel it’s right to be addressed this way here”, she replied, her voice dangerously close to showing her lack of patience. She took a deep breath to calm herself while he spoke.  
  
“Of course, Eliza. I wanted to thank you and congratulate you personally for the contribution you made yesterday. Hosea has told me everything, you are a remarkable actress! We value your hard work and courage, we really do.” He set his hands on his hips and stood up even taller than he was. “Miss Adler, I beseech you not to offend our Eliza, she’s trying her best, and if I may remind you, has become a useful asset very quickly, if we compare her to certain other people.”   
  
The girl moved uncomfortably, as Sadie stiffened up, but the blonde woman didn’t retaliate like she feared.  
  
“Thank you. Now, I’m sure Hosea will approach you with more of his plans, the old conman adores your talents very much. I hope you’ll join him again in the future young lady?”  
  
She forced herself to smile and nodded. “Of course, It feels good to be useful to the gang. Thank you, Dutch” she replied, silently pleading he would take her confirmation and leave. Her prayers were answered as he tipped his hat and turned back to his pavilion.  
  
Sadie was looking at her, a sympathetic expression on her face. Eliza just shook her head, in the hopes of airing out her bubbling emotions a bit. She just wanted to carve her own place in this group, yet here was another person feeling the need to defend her. Did she really seem so helpless?   
  
“Don’t let him get to ya. He means well, likes looking after his own.”   
  
Arthur spoke quietly, guessing her thoughts again. Eliza just gave a shrug and turned to her cot, mumbling her goodbyes to the two friends. She could feel their eyes on her back as she walked away. Somehow she had to find a way to prove to them she could handle herself. She didn’t want others to think she needed help fighting her corner anymore. She dropped the canvas around her cot, shielding her from curious eyes.  
For a while she just laid on her bed, trying to not think about anything. She failed miserably and her mind was spinning. A woman’s voice ripped her out of the desperate fight in her mind.  
  
“Eliza? You got a minute? I’d like to ‘ave a word with you.”  
  
She sat up, struck by thunder. It was Molly. As if today wasn’t bad enough already. Eliza cleared her throat then answered.  
  
“Yeah sure, come on in!”  
  
The pretty redhead slipped into her tent and she gestured her to take a seat on the stool next to her cot. She complied, kneading her hands nervously. Eliza wasn’t patient enough today to draw this out, so she started the conversation, she thought she had a pretty good idea what Molly’s concern was.  
  
“This is about Dutch, isn’t it?” She offered.   
  
The redhead looked at her with those huge doe eyes of her and seemed very lost to Eliza. She nodded, still clasping her hands together. “I- uhm, I’m sorry, I don’t mean ta cause any offense. But ya know, Dutch and I, we… well, I really love him.” Molly looked at her, with desperately sad eyes. “I love him, and he-, at least I believe, he loves me too you know?”  
  
Eliza gave her a sad smile. “I know Molly, I know you do.”   
She waited for her to continue, but she didn’t seem to get the words out, so she continued with a sigh. “Molly… I know he’s been very… Well, fixated on me since I joined you. I’m glad he approves of me as a member of the gang and respect him as the leader, but that’s where it ends.”  
  
Molly stared at her, with an endlessly helpless look in her eyes. “Y-you sure? You mean ya don’t… fancy him?”  
  
Eliza laughed. “I fancy him to leave me alone most of the time. How you put up with his endless speeches, I’ll never know!” She lightly patted the girl’s knee, trying to ease up the tension. “In all seriousness though, he simply isn’t my type. Hell, I don’t even know if I have one.” She sat back and leaned against the wagon, watching a bit of nervousness fall off Molly’s demeanour.  
  
“He- He’s barely talking to me about anythin’ lately, you know. I didn’t think ye’d be the type to, well, be a homewrecker if I may be so blunt, but ya never know, you know?”  
  
Eliza smiled bitterly at this. “Trust no one, I agree. Took me a while to trust your gang too after they kidnapped me. I’m still not sure about some.” She observed the redhead. She really was extraordinarily pretty, no wonder Dutch had taken a liking to her. Her lashes were long and voluminous, her eyes big and of such a bright green it was clearly visible even in the dim light of her tent. The slim nose stood in contrast to her full lips, painted in a lovely deep red that went well with her fiery hair. Eliza let out a deep breath. “You don’t have to worry about me, in no way am I interested in your man. I may look innocent apparently, but I’m sure if he knew what I got up to in my father’s house he wouldn’t want to touch me with a six foot pole anyway.”  
  
Molly’s face lit up with sudden curiosity. Eliza mentally gave herself a slap, of course she’d love to hear some gossip.  
  
“What did ye get up to then that’s so terrible?”  
  
She thought a moment of how much she could reveal, the likelihood was the whole camp would know about it within less than a day. “Well…” She started carefully, “let’s just say I’m not _pure_ anymore if you catch my meaning.”  
  
Molly sat on the edge of her seat and stared at her incredulously, all worry about Dutch forgotten it seemed. “Who was it?”   
  
“I-I’m not sure if I should-“  
  
“Was it a military man? One of your father’s business partners?” She clapped her hands in front of her mouth. “A lord?!”  
  
Eliza couldn’t help but smile. The poor girl evidently had read way too many romance novels for her own good.  
  
“None of these, although my father would have loved to see that.” She scoffed and Molly’s eyes hung on her expectantly. “It was one of the stable boys”, she admitted. Molly was visibly disappointed.  
  
“A mere stable boy? A lady of your standing?” she asked, almost sad.  
  
“You make it sound like I was a proper lady”, Eliza answered, chuckling. “No, my father would have loved me to be _proper_ and not even look at any of our servants in anything less than disgust. Maybe that was the reason why it was a _mere stable boy_ , I don’t know… But I liked him well enough I suppose.”  
She stared at the roof of the tent, her eyes all zoned out. “Until he went off and bragged about it to the other men in my father’s services. Luckily my old man never thought his daughter could be _that_ stupid and didn’t believe them when word got out. He threw him and most of the male servants out anyway, for _trying to defame his name_.”   
  
She shot Molly a probing look. The girl still sat on her chair, her hands in front of her lips. Eliza lifted her shoulders. “That’s it. Wasn’t that exciting, in hindsight.”  
  
“Are you pulling me leg? That’s so terribly romantic!” The redhead seemed to come to the conclusion it was some sort of forbidden love, like in her stories. “Have you heard from him since?”  
  
She laughed. “Of course not, he wasn’t allowed anywhere near us anymore and I wasn’t ever to leave the estate without an escort. Besides, I didn’t _love_ him or anything.”  
  
The girl sunk back down on her seat a little, deflated. “Oh.” She managed. Then she gathered herself and put on a beaming smile, bewildering Eliza. “I s’pose I better get off then. Thank you for bein’ so honest with me, I really appreciate it.”  
  
Eliza nodded, “Anytime. Sorry I caused you grief.”  
  
“Ah, it’s no bother. It’s my own fault really, for not speakin’ up and talkin’ to Dutch himself.” She stood up, smoothing the fabric of her skirt. “If ya ever need anythin’, don’t be shy to ask. You are a good person, ya know?”  
  
With this, she left Eliza’s tent. The young woman exhaled and sat on the same spot for a while, this conversation had gone way better than she had expected. Molly was much more reasonable than she originally had thought, even if her head was clouded by some stupid ideal of what love should be. If she weren’t so reclusive the other girls would surely grow to like her too she thought.


	28. Polaris

Eliza spent the rest of the afternoon doing chores. Her friends were eager to know how her riding lesson went and especially Mary-Beth seemed interested, following every word of her tale while they were helping Pearson to prepare for dinner.  
  
“Ah it’s such a shame I can ride already, he sounds t’be a good teacher”, she said after Eliza had finished.  
  
“Ain’t like he’d teach anyone else than our Eliza here, he seems mighty fond of her. Never seen him so concerned over anyone”, Karen cackled.  
  
Eliza felt the heat rising to her cheeks, yes _why_ was he so intent of making sure she was okay? Even this afternoon he had checked in twice on her to see if she needed anything. The gnawing thought about what her fluttering stomach could mean came back and she pushed it away. Not now.  
  
“He just feels guilty, silly!” Tilly tuned in. “He ain’t forgotten how they kidnapped her, wanna bet that’s why?”  
  
 _Yeah, that must be the reason_ , Eliza thought to herself. She flicked a potato peel towards Karen, who was still cackling away. The blonde girl protested as it landed in her hair and threw a handful of greenery back, covering half the prepped vegetables between them. Pearson grunted angrily and shooed them away, the girls laughing over the mischief they’ve caused.  
  
Hosea was nearby and came up to them, greeting them lovingly in his grandfatherly manner. He turned to Eliza.  
  
“Any chance I might steal you away for a little chat before dinner?”  
  
“Of course!” She hooked her hand under his arm and they made off to the edge of the camp, to the horses.  
  
“So I hear young Arthur has been teaching you to ride our way! How did that go?”  
  
“Very well, I think! Moonshine is a lovely horse mind you, I’m not sure if I’m any good at it myself or if she’s just incredibly well trained”, Eliza laughed. “Arthur was really helpful and patient. You seem to have brought him up well”, she added, smiling up at the old man.  
  
He returned her smile, amused. “Well it weren’t just me. But I do agree, the boy’s turned out alright, got a bright head on his shoulders and his heart in the right place. I for one am glad about that.” He sighed. “Not everyone would agree though, this is a hard life and sometimes I think he’s too good for us all.   
  
“Tell me about it”, she mumbled. “Do you know why he’s so eager to help me? I don’t see him teaching the girls anything, or even Lenny for that matter.”  
  
Hosea hesitated, looking at her as if he wasn’t sure how to answer. “That’s… Well, I have a theory. But you better ask him that yourself. It’s his business.”   
  
Her heart leapt up. She beat it down her throat again and nodded, disgruntled. “Is it because he feels guilty about what happened to me?” She couldn’t help herself, even though she knew the man felt uncomfortable talking about the subject.   
  
“I don’t know about that. I… really, you better ask him that. I wouldn’t want to be seen gossiping about the man’s past.”  
  
“I understand. My apologies.” She let her glance sweep over the horses. About a third were gone, including the massive Moonshine and mean Hera. Of course the two most efficient members were out on some errand. “What was it you wanted to talk to me about?”  
  
His face lit up. “Ah, I just wanted to make sure your lesson went well my girl! I had feared I’d have to have a word with Arthur, but according to you he’s a good teacher”, he nudged her side, grinning at her with a twinkle in his eyes. “Even if Moonshine was a bit big for you” he added.  
  
Eliza knew he was only teasing her in good faith but that didn’t mean she wasn’t taken back to Sadie laughing at her. She grumbled. He nudged her again and continued.  
  
“Don’t worry, I have a feeling that’s gonna be taken care of quite soon. Arthur might have mentioned something.”  
  
She looked at him in confusion. “What do you mean, taken care of?”  
  
Hosea just shrugged his shoulders and laughed. “Wouldn’t want to give anything away young lady! Now would you stop slapping my poor old arm if you please, I’m too frail to endure such excessive violence these days.”  
  
She gave him one last playful smack and joined in the laughter. He really had a talent for making her feel at ease, she very much enjoyed the company of this old man.  
  
 _No flutter in your stomach though~_  
  
She shook her head and once again pushed the thought away.  
They observed the horses that were grazing nearby. She knew half of them by name and who they all belonged to by now. Her favourite was undoubtedly Moonshine, the mare had intimidated her with her enormous size at first, but she was gentle as anything and always up for a good scratch. Lenny’s horse Maggie was sat on the ground not far from them, the good little Mustang stood high in Eliza’s regards too. She yearned for her own horse, but had neither the money to buy one, nor the skill to tame one.  
  
Her and Hosea were chatting about different horse breeds and their specific traits when Pearson called the camp to dinner. Rabbit stew was on the menu this evening, the game they brought in a few days ago had run out already. It was pleasant as always and soon after Javier was playing softly on his guitar. Eliza excused herself and headed to the cliff, sitting down behind a rock and marvelling at the clear sky. She welcomed the cool breeze. It had been a hot day and she would have to head out for a bath soon, the warm weather made her grimy with sweat much quicker than she would have liked.   
Her eyes glided across the sky and got caught by the brightness of the North Star. Arthur had pointed it out to her when the two were sat here the other night, herself drunk as anything. She was embarrassed even just remembering parts of that conversation. No wonder he saw her as a helpless child, stubborn and pouty as she had been. Yet… He hadn’t seemed to look at her that way when they had shared that dance.   
The memory still made her blush and her stomach fluttered again. She sighed, finally giving up on trying to find an explanation other than what it was. There was no denying it, she liked the man in more than just a friendly way. Why she felt like that she couldn’t fathom, he had been good to her, sure, but so had Hosea and Lenny and Dutch and all the others, really? He was gruff and awkward at times, a gentleman but also a brutish outlaw.  
She had always liked to imagine one day she’d fall in love with someone her age, a gentle fellow of decent standing that would treat her well and would pry her from her father’s grasp. They’d get a little farm or cottage; and they’d look after house and grounds together.  
Arthur didn’t seem like the type to settle down though, besides, wasn’t he like ten years older than her? Most men of his profession didn’t live much longer, it was a miracle Hosea and Dutch were still alive. Falling in love with an outlaw would only end in heartbreak surely.  
  
 _You’re not in love though, are you. Just sweet on him.  
  
_ She let out an exasperated breath. The last decade she had spent trying to develop feelings for any of the men her father picked out, just to escape his grip. The most she had managed to feel though was disdain at rich men’s incredible self-importance and narcissism. And now here she was, in the lowest bracket of society, surrounded by criminals and getting too fond of a thieving, murdering outlaw.  
The star above her twinkled and she lowered her head into her hands. She wouldn’t let her feelings get in the way she decided. There were more important things for her right now than romance, and he had never shown any interest in that sort of relationship anyway. Secondly, she was pretty sure Mary-Beth had a deep admiration for the man too, and she wasn’t about to destroy her friendship with the lovely girl for some short lived fling.  
She would have to ask him why he’d taken her on like some sort of personal protection project, maybe that would push all hope out of her heart so she could move on and leave these silly feelings behind her.  
Eliza got to her feet and turned to head to her cot when she noticed a small commotion at the camp entrance. Sadie and Arthur were back, and she thought she could see someone else, but they were hidden behind their huge mounts.  
She wandered towards them as Sadie called out her name, her eyes scanning their wagon, looking for the girl.   
  
“I’m here”, she answered as she approached. “What’s going on?”  
  
The blonde woman looked at her with a wide smile, Arthur hung back, his hat pulled deep into his face. _Typical_ , she thought, but smiled.  
  
Sadie answered. “I wanted to apologise for earlier. ‘t wasn’t right of me to laugh at ya. Here, this one is all yours.”  
  
She beckoned to Arthur, who led a gorgeous horse towards them, white with black splashes. It had been hidden behind Moonshine, Eliza hadn’t realised it was another horse. Her mouth fell open and Arthur passed her the rope with a reaffirming nod.  
  
“W-what do you mean, mine? Where did you get it from?” She stared at the gorgeous animal. It had a heavy build but was much smaller than Moonshine, with a thick mane and tail and tassels of long hair around the hooves.   
  
“Let’s just say the guy who owns the stables in Scarlett Meadows owed me a favour”, the blonde woman answered. “He only needed a bit of convincing.” Her face pulled into a mean grin as she patted the revolver at her side.  
  
Eliza furrowed her brows. “You stole it you mean?”  
  
“No, really! I helped him with some horse thieves some months back. Honest, he owed me.”  
  
“Didn’t seem to think he owed you tack though”, Arthur chuckled.  
  
Eliza just shook her head in disbelief and turned her attention back to the beautiful mare. Her fur was soft and she seemed to be well looked after and healthy. It reminded her of her old pony Curdle, that she had to leave behind in England. “Is it a Gypsy Cob? I thought you didn’t have these here!”, she asked.  
  
“I ain’t sure, he didn’t tell me”, Sadie admitted. “She’s young and strong though, calm in her temper mostly he said. Should suit you well.”  
  
She continued to pet her new horse, overwhelmed by this gift. The mare whickered softly and nudged Eliza with her nose. She laughed and looked at the woman to her left. “I don’t know what to say. Thank you Sadie, she’s beautiful.”  
  
The blonde smiled. “Thank Arthur here, ‘t was his idea really. Weren’t no trouble.”  
  
Eliza’s eyes shot to the man who was stood a few paces away, observing them two from beneath his hat. He tugged at his sleeve and shrugged. “Thought you’d like to have your own. Sadie wanted to pay ya back, with you getting her wagon and all.” He nodded to the mare. “What are you gonna call her?”  
  
She thought for a moment, considering the horse. Her white fur glistened in the moonlight and was only broken up by flecks of black splashed here and there. The mane and tail were two toned in white and black too and as her deep brown eyes caught the twinkle of the star Eliza had been staring at not too long ago. She smiled.  
  
“Polaris.”  
  
Arthur chuckled soundlessly and Sadie congratulated her. “That’s a good name. Now let’s see how you get on with that saddle of yours.”  
  
They let her take off saddle and bridle, standing by in case she needed help but Eliza managed to do it all herself. The seat was still very heavy, but much less so than Moonshine’s that had almost buried her. Polaris was also at a good height for her to be able to get her ready without the need of a stepping stone, but she would still look like a big horse with her on it. All the while she was talking gently to the mare, acquainting herself with the animal. She had missed caring for a horse, her father never let her into the stables after that incident with the servant boy, any horseback riding she did was just that – riding. Taking care of the horses wasn’t her job and he never let her do any dirty work that wouldn’t befit her status. In Yorkshire she had spent hours with Curdle, brushing him, talking to him and just sitting near him in silent company. She was so happy to have this cob to care for now.   
  
“Can I take her out tomorrow for a ride? Alone?”   
  
Sadie looked at Arthur, he lifted his shoulders.  
  
“Sure, don’t see why not”, he answered and she beamed at him.   
  
“I’ll ask Charles if I can borrow his bow and try to get something back for dinner!”  
  
Sadie cackled. “Make sure we ain’t getting too reliant on you, girl! Come on Arthur, let’s give her some time alone with her new friend. I’m tired.”  
  
They departed; Eliza stayed with Polaris for over an hour before she went to bed herself. She was happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you might have guessed, Moonshine the iron grey Ardennes is always my horse for Arthur in game - and "Polaris" is my main horse online. The gypsy cobs are just much too pretty to pass up on! What are your favourite breeds and coats? I'd love to know!


End file.
